IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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1.0 


I.I 


UiM2A     |2.5 


1.8 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


L25  1 1.4    i  1.6 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MS80 

(716)872-4503 


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^tf 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductlons  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 
D 
D 
D 
D 
□ 
D 
D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommagde 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pellicul6e 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  gdographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  ilk  strations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli6  avec  d'autres  documents 


r~7|    Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 


D 


along  interior  margin/ 

Lareliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 

distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int^rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  filmdes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaiies  suppldmentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  m6thode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquds  ci-dessous. 


I      I    Coloured  pages/ 


D 
0 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommag^es 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicul^es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxe( 
Pages  ddcolor^es,  tachetdes  ou  piqu6es 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d6tach6es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  in^gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  material  supplementaire 


n 

I      I  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 

I      I  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

I      I  Pages  detached/ 

r~?r  Showthrough/ 

I      I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I  Includes  supplementary  material/ 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6X6  filmdes  d  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu6  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


12X 


16X 


20X 


26X 


30X 


24X 


28X 


n 

32X 


w 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Metropolittn  Toronto  Library 
History  Department 

The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


L'exemplaire  filmd  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de: 

Metropolitan  Toronto  Library 
History  Department 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  6x6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetA  de  l'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimis  sont  film^s  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film^s  en^ommenpant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED "),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  -^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  y  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  dtre 
film^s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichd,  il  est  filmd  d  partir 
de  Tangle  sup^rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nicessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


1     1 

2 

3 

32X 


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2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN 


OR 


A  SIXir.KN  MONTHS    TorK    I'KOM   Cll  ICAGO  AROUX")  TIIK  WORLD 
IIIROUOII    MAMTor.A    AND    liKITISII    COLUMlilA    \\\     TIIK    CA- 
NADIAN    1' \(  II'IC- OKKOON     AND    WASH  INC  TON —JAI'AN— 
CHINA  —  SIAM  —  STRAITS     SKT  TI.K.M  KNIS  —  liURMAlI  - 
INDIA  — Ci;VI.ON-i;c.Vl'T—(iRF,I-:d:—TURKKV— ROD- 
MANIA— I  If  NOARV- AUSTRIA— POLAND— TRANS- 

CAi'CAsiA— Tiir:  (  AsriAN  si:a  and  tiil  vol- 

(iA    RIVKR— Ri;sSIA— I'lNI.AND— SWKDKN— 

NORWAN'    -    DI'.XMARK    —    PRUSSIA  — 

PARIS  —   LONDON     AM)     HOME 


BV 


CARTER    H.  HARRISON 


NEW   YORK 
G.  P.  PUTNAM'S   SONS 

CIIICAOO: 

W.  E.  DIBBLE  cSi  CO. 
1889 


COI'VKIC.HT   liV 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
1889 


^  1 0  /i 

I  ^  f  ■'  'i 

("1  L'^f 


JAN  1  / 1966 

Cbc  ■ntnichctbocftcc  press 

Ul.-ctrutyin'UivW.i'.l'--,n.y 
G.  1'.  PutiKim's  Snns 


PREFACE. 


Tx  the  :^uinmcr  of  1887,  haviiv^  laid  aside  the  cares  of  pubHc 
office  continuously  filled  durini;  fifteen  and  a  half  years,  and 
h-vini^'  met  with  a  s.ul  bereavement  which  nearly  snapped  heart- 
strin'^s,  the  writer,  for  the  purpose  of  bridi^nng  the  chasm  lyin;^f 
between  a  laborious  past  and  wli.it  he  hoped  mi-;ht  be  a  restful 
future,  started  upon  .1  tour  of  the  world.  For  his  comparif.ns  he 
had  fohn  W.  Amber<,s  the  son  of  a  trusted  friend,  and  his  own 
son  William  Preston  Harrison,  ai^^etl  resjiectively  seventeen  and 
eighteen  years. 

On  the  eve  of  his  departure  two  editorial  friends  urged  him 
to  write  letters  on  his  travels  for  their  papers.  Recognizing 
the  dangerous  effects  of  easy  idleness  after  a  life  of  labor,  he  had 
alreadydetermined  to  keep  for  his  children  a  full'and  complete 
traveller's  book.  As  an  experiment  he  ct)mmenced  this  in  mani- 
fold and  in  form  of  letters.  His  first  letters  being  very  kindly 
received,  he  continued  them,  though  forced  to  steal  the  time  for 
writing,  and  oftentimes  finding  the  thing  an  onerous  labor.  lUit 
this  labor  soon  became  one  of  love.  What  he  saw  he  described 
honestly,  and  gave  his  thoughts  freely,  hoping  to  make  his 
friends  at  home  partakers  of  his  happiness.  After  returning 
many  friends  urged  him  to  put  his  letters  into  book  form. 
To  do  this  re(iuired  more  labor  than  the  original  writing,  for  he 
had,  for  the  sake  of  economy  of  sjiace.  to  cut  out  much.wliile  yet 
maintaining  the  epistolary  style.  He  makes  no  pretensions  to 
literary  merit,  but  asks  from  the  public  the  same  kindliness  in 
reading  his  letters,  which  he  has  felt  in  writing  for  them. 


.^jpiMan 


^ 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  1. 

I'AGE 

The  Stan — Wiiuiipe^'  ;iiiil   Manitulin — 'I'liu  Caiiailian   Pacific  Railroal — Sccii-ry 

ill  the  UiHl^ic-  aii'i  tlic  Sclkirks,  ami  cm  tliu  I'la^cr  Kivcr        .  ,  .  ,        I 

CHAPTER  H. 

Timber — I'r'iductifpns  ami  l'c•culiaritit'^  nf  Orej^oii  ami  Washington — Fmcst  Tiro 

anil  Smoke — Scenery  of  <hc  t'lihiinliia lo 


CHAPTER  nr. 

M'lre  aliout  \\:i~hinL;ton — N'ictoria  ami  \'aiiccniver\  Island   . 


If) 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Soil  and  Climate  of  the  Northwestern  Pacific  Slope — \'ictoria  and  Ks<i\iiniaiill — 

I  ireen  River  Hot  S])rinL;s,  aiiil  'rrout  K, 


CHAPTER    V. 

A    Run    Hack    into    the    Selkirks  on  a   Locomotive — (Uaciers  ami  Avalanches — 

Siamese  Princes — Scenery  at  (ilacicr  House 24 

CHAPTER  VI. 

ln>ni  \"aiKouver  to  \'nkohania — An  Ocean  \'oyai;e  Likened  to  the  \'ovaL;e  of 
I-ife — 1  he  Risks  of  the  Sea — Stormy  Passatje — A  'I'yphoon — I'luckv  lapanese 
Sailors — ( itir  Mishaps  and  Recoveries    .....,,,      2ij 

CHAPTER  VII. 

lieautiful  aii.l  P.i/arre  Japan— Its  Cheerful  Men  and  Modest  Immodest  Women- 
Its   Mechanic^  and  Pabies,  Houses  ami  Cities  ......      41 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Kivers,    Larm-,   and   l-'armeis  of  Jajian— h'urther  Characteristics  of  its   T'eoide— 

It-  Hotels,  Fund,  and  Flowers       .  .  . ;; 

CHAPTER   IX. 


Speculation-   uimii   Japan — (jrcat    1  lykes 
Education     .         .         .         .         , 


Walls — Liliputian   Trees — l-'eiiiale 


"4 


Vlll 


II 


CONT/u\TS. 

CHAPTER   X.  ,^„, 

1     „   i',„1'    Vow  .1  Wi^L'   UuKt— Ka|)lil 


I'rugress — *-"' 


CHAPTER  XI. 

...        ,  ,   ,vr      T,>l<io.    its   Ca-llc    ana    IVn^e    l>..i'"l:^ii- - 1'-'^\^-^"'""' 

— i-i>ii  ..••■••■■■ 

CHAPTER    Xn. 

(Jiiiliing  Japati 

CHAPTER   XHI. 

Yan..T^c.Kian,-rhine^e  Fnnnin.-li.h  n,ul  M..lc-,..f  rn,cl,in,-An,c.,.n,-e 
■,,,-,lK-Counm-Mi=.ioManc..(;alnolic..naiTo,cManl   .         . 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

.■Innc^eCi.ies  Houses,  TempU-^,  aivl  Wo.kshops-'-'.'.t  ^..1   l'^':^   K„.M>-Kln:i.- 

int;  l',.i.aatu-'u  .'f  Cam.m-llower  l!o.ats-\Vomf  n  l'M,an.K.»->usin  ■    m 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Sian.-Ki.h  S,Mi-Vast  1-nrcMs  of  ■rimbc-lian^kok-Vulluro.  Katin-  tl,.  1  )caa 

-A  Crcm.'ition— AiulieiiL-c  uitli  tlic  King— Siainc-c  ■rhfatri.'  •  -130 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

.Singaport-lJotanicil  (i.inlcn-A  Sail  thn-n-l.  tl,f  Khio-l.in-a  .\r>lni.cla-,-Its 

I-A>HiiMtf  Beauty— Chicago  MancI— The  K'Hialor '49 

CHAPTER  XVH. 

lluriiiali—ragoads— Working    Klephants— The    Irr.aw^achly    River— I'aL-alin     vith 

V,()<|<)  I'agoaas-^Mandakiy— Kxi|ui-.itc  Kailice-.— The  lliunK--e  HH 

CHAPTER  XVni. 

■The    Ilooghly— Calcutta— Mount    Kvcvtst- A   Wonderful    Railroad— .\    Dinner 

with  Uml  Dufftrin,  .and  a  State  Hall '7^ 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

I  Calcutta  to  r.enares-Thfe  Holy  City  and  I'ilgrinis— Sacred  P.athing  and  burning 

.Corpses — Sarnath  and  liuddhism — Lucknow  and  Cawnpore   ...  192 


CONTENTS. 


ix 


CHAl'TKR  XX. 

Lahore  to  IVsliawiir — ('cnlral   Asiaiiis — Wcslcni   IliiiKilayas — Ca^liniir — A  W'liu 

Kiilf 2o2 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

Iiulia'^  Vast  l';!-! — .\  Ciloridiis  MoiltTii   Iiccil — |)cllii  ami   .\i;ra — l''.\(|tii'.iti.'   Halls 

ami    TcMiilis — 'I'liu  'I'aj  —  KclluLtiniis         ........   213 

CHAPTER  WIT. 

kLiiiarkahk'    Mmnitains — .V    Mode!    Xativc   City — MinKcys  and   IVaoicks — OM 

Aiiilitr — .\  Kidu  on  an  I'Muphant — Croccjdilts  .....   227 

CHAPTEi.  XXIIJ. 

.Mmu-daliad — licantifnl  Sarai-cnic  Kcnirdns — \Vood-(  '.uvijii; — ;\irclia^in!;  Shau  1' — 
\nli\c  liiploniacy — lionibay — Towers  of  Silence — Klc|iluint.i — Thf  151I1  of 
Icliriiary        .............   235 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

.\cnws  thu  lii'i'can — Karli  I'avus — I'.cniUiful  Women — llydcraliad — Old  (i'.u.iuda 

— Titanic  Rocks — l-'.lcpliant  Kidt- — ( 'liarniini;  llos|iiiality      ....   248 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Tutirorin — I'ondichciry — Tanjorc — Tricliinojioly  and   M.adur.-i — Hindoo  'I'dnplcs 

— A  l)L'liiihlful  Kidu — Natives  and  their  J  )rcss       ......   2O0 


149 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Ceylon — The  Cocoa  I'alin  the  People's  I'Viend — Tea,  Coffee,  and  Cinchonas — 
Cliarniinf;  Mountain  Retreat  —  Knglish  Rule  in  India  —  Strictures  on  the 
Kn_L;lislnnan's   .Manners  ..........   269 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Cities  lienealli  the  Indian   ( V-ean — The   Red  Sea  and   its  Sugi^estions— Sintjular 

Weather — Suez  Canal    ........  "S: 


I()I 


17a 


192 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

An   .\].ril   Trip  up  the  Nile— Deli^'htful  Cliniati — Cairo  Old  and   Xew— .\r.al)ic 

Tnnilis — Coci.l  Friday  —  Roolak  .Museum — .Mother  and  llahe  3,000  Years  tlld,   2S9 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The   Nile— Old   .and    New  EgyiH— Kgyptian    Houses— The   IToddinj;   Donkey— 

Forbiilden  Fruits — Kt;yptian  I''arms — llc^.ders  from  an  Ass    ....   299 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

I»r.  Scldiemann— Thebes:   its  Temples  and  Tombs— Reautiful    riclure-Writin"— 


.\  Native  I'east 


308 


1 


Cusmo] 
an 


329 


347 


•   355 


CONTENTS. 

X 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

,         ,1,.    \ii„,nc Rich   Art    Treasures 

Cciiistantly  K>;luimc<l— nil..  1  """>-  .         .         .   ■i\l 

W.mderful  Sunset— Karcufll,  (Ircccc    .•■•■■• 

CHAPTER  XXXn. 

1        ivnntiful     Vniiniadi  — Custom-house  — Snlonvm 

:r ■.•  r;::St:s::f  l..;i-n.e   SaU..u.He._'rUe  -nn.. 

SuUan-I)ervishes.-:ThcBosphorus-^Vonaerfull■an,.rama   .         .  •         • 

CHAPTER  XXXHI. 

The  liosphorus-Across    )iuI,aria-i:ueharest-Rou,.ania  :    its  Veople,    Appear- 
ance,  and  rrocUictions 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Scenes-  on  T.ower  D^nuLe-Huaa-Pesth-lieautiful  \V„n.en-Mar,uerite   tslan, 
—  Hungarian  lierliv 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Vi,,,a-Taxes-Thc  Vice  of   Lottery-Austrian   K.rby-Tips-KinK    Strasse- 
Museums — Environs 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

RuntoMosc<m--\Varsaw-ThM'ule..-S<.biesld'sralaee-l'easants     . 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Moscow-The  Russo-Greek  Church-Devoti.-n  of  tlie  I'eople-Kussian  Tea- 
Restaurants— Tlie  Kremlin— Uells—ralaces 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Princely  Kindness-Ridi  Prairie  Lauds- Vcronij-Xecessity  for  Forest  Protection 
-The  Cossacks- P.rave  Children-Suullower  the  Russi.m  Nil.lde- Rostof  011 
the  Don 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Vladikavkas— C'.rand  Views  of  the  Caucasus— A  (  dorious  Trip— Flouers— I'ruit— 
Tillis  Pretty  and  Interesting 

CHAPTER  XL. 

The  Caspian  Sea— li.aku  and  its  Marvellous  Oil  Wells— Petroleum  as  a  k'uel- 

Pialakhana—iV  llurning  Sea— -Natural  C.as 417 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

The  \'olga  River  and  Mighty  Traliic—.\strakhan— Kazan— Xijni  Novgorod- 
Rafts— The  People— The  C.rcat  Lair 429 


364 


374 


3S2 


394 


403 


3 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


317 


329 


347 


•   355 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

Frnm  Xijni  to  "Ryliin'l;  by  River;  Then  by  Rail  to  St.  rctersburL; — lVtcrli..f  : 

its  Hcaulilul  I'uiuuains — The  Meet ingof  tlie  Kmperors  ....   44-, 

CHAPTER  XLHI. 

St.  Pclcr'.hiirc;— Poliicness  and  (iooil  Nature  of  the  Russians — Sunerl)  (lalleries 

lli-iniilane— Winler  J 'alace— Winter  Revelry— St.  Isaac's  Church — Ilhimina- 
timi  ;;!  I'vierhiif     ...... 


453 


CHAPTER  XLIV 


Finlan<l— An  Intcreslinf;  Counlrv — Tlie  Finns— Ti)rnca—Mi(Ini,;ht  witliin  tlu- 
Arctic  Circle— l'i.stin_L;—l''arniii;-— Tile  Kelaticms  of  the  Russians  with  their 
CinKiuereil  ^ulijects _jf^,i. 

CHAPTER  XLV. 

Sail  to  Sweden— I'p'ncely  Fellow  \'oya-ers— Stockholm— The  Swedes— I Fouie-like 

Landscapes _^,j,^ 


304 


374 


3S2 


CHAPTER  XLvT. 

\orwav— Maf,'nilicent     Scenery— 'I'rustful     T'eople — I'lcasinfj    Simplicity — I'rettv 

Log-li.ju-.e.s— Farming  iu  .Norway- Cdaeiers  and  Water-falls         .  .   4,^9 

CH.VPTER  XI. VH. 


Chri-tiauia- \'ikiMi;   Ships— Tla-leniarken-The    Fiords— Climate    of    Xnruav- 
>ldeiidid   Roads— -iJelightful   Tours — Mountani   1  fairies 


■    50J 


CHAPTER  XLVin. 


Copenhagen- Thorwaldsen— Freilericksbori,'- Thrifty    Danes— Run    to    I'.erlin— 

llerlin  in  1652  and  Xow— Rellectious ^oj 


394 


403 


■  417 


■  429 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

A  Lunch  "en  famille"  with  I'.ismarck— Charmini;  Hospitality— Kindliness  .if  the 

I'rince — AutoLr,apli>  anil  I'hotographs ^^4 

CHAPTER  L. 

Tlambur-- An  Intercstin;;  City— (Quaint  I  lanover— Lean-to  ( )ld  Houses— Run  to 
Fiankfort — I'he  Rhine 


546 


CHAPTER  LI. 


Wonderful,   Fascinatins;   I'aris- I,up,-,>vement-,  of   the   Fmpire— Recollections  of 

L>ecember,  1S51 — Markets  of   I'aris       ...  =  =  0 


n 


1«! 


\n 


CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER  LIl- 

Vicious  I. .melon— Its   1  o{,s     ii<    i  .  ^    ^^^^ 


London,  Crcat  nn 

Tortworth  Court  ami  Dt-rkuleyta'tl^     .         • 

CHAPTER  Un. 

■v\- .  1  .,si-  iliL-  Race  with  tl'.';  Sun 
Our  Home  Kui.-Niagara-\\c  Lost  the 


56C' 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Tin-.     (liu-.AT     Sr.i.KiuK     (;la(;ikk,    (li.Acir.K     Ilorsi;.      Canadian    I 
Railway        . 

IlrUMI'l'   RaNCK,   I-lcKKV    MnlNTAINS,  WIl  It  CaNAOIAN  PACIFIC  R.  R.  ST/ 

TiiK  CiiANcni.i.KR,    Ottkr    Taii.   Rangk,    Rocky    Mountains.     <'\n 

rACIlIC    RaII  WAY 

AVAI.ANCIIK  SlIKI),  SKI.KIUIC   MolNTAINS.       CANADIAN  PAIiriC  RaIIAVAV 
Cl  AlIKK  IIorSK  AN!)  CikKAT  (ll.Alll:K.       CANADIAN  r'ACIIIC   RaIIWAY 
IIl-.RMir  MilTNTAIN,   RnCKRs'  1'ass.      Canaihan  PAciric  Rauavay 
CicANiii'  (.  i;riAi;s  (53  Fekt  in  Circimi  f.kknck),  Stani.ky  Park,  \'anci 

P.khisii  Coi.iMniA  ........ 

f  lull  ;l. ASS  I'lUS,   \'.\NrorYF.R.    PjRIIISH   Col.lMDIA        .... 

.V  Part  OF  jArANKSF. 'ri-.MPi.i;,  XiKKo,  Jai'an 

l'r|i-\'.\MA,  FRciM  Tin;  ToKAnm       ....... 

flMi  Sl'iNF,  fMAin.S,    NKAR   XlKKd,  JaTAN 

Wa  i-Si.-Ka  r  Paiwida,  IIani^khk      ....... 

Pii  KMi.si;  I.AiiiFS  xi  'I'fa  and  Smukini: 

I.ii.ii' ON  riiF.  I)ar|i;i.i.ini;  Railroad 

CoKi'^i.  IN  Canhis  and  (.'rkmaiion  ON  riiF  Rank,  Pi'.nares    . 
Indian  WoMFN  w  rill  FcKi.  MADi:  oiManfrf.          .... 
Till.  'I'aj  I  ROM  iin   Rnij;,  Ai.ra 

PAKSKI;    ToWKR  01    SlI.KNCK,   RoMllAY 

(iRorp  OF  Hii.i.  pFon.K  OF  Ckntra:.  Fniiia 

CiOlTRAS  OF   [IlNI 'rFMI'I.K,    ^rADl•RA 

TAl.ll'or  PaI.M  in  lil.ooM,  Cfyi.on 

iNDlA-RlKKFR     TKFFS,    P.VRKDF.NI  YA  CiARDKN,  Cf.YI.ON 

Caiamaran  I'lsiiiNc-lioAT  uTi'ii  OrTKi(;r;FR,  Cfyi.on    . 

.\.  IIan\  AN  Trkf  Straddi.inc.  a  Road,  Ciai.on        .... 

RaMFSSFS  II.,   KlNFIFFNTII   DYNASTY.    KNOWN  AS  SKSOSIRIS      . 
SfcTION  OF  Ol.l)    WaI  I..   CONSTANTINOI'LK 

TiiK  Krfmi.in,,  .Moscow  ... 

MoFNT  Kazhfk  FROM  Station  IN  Caucasi's  Mountains 

Russian  "  Troika" 

STAT.Iil  R  AND  WoMAN  ClIURNINC,    IIaII  ID  JaF.TKR,    TN  TIIFI.F.M  ARKFN 
Fl.MD.M.,   IROM   .VasI.TRAKKFNF,    IN    THF  TlIFI.KMAR  KI'.N,  XoRWAY    . 

IIlTTFRDAL   ClIURCH.  ThKI.F.M.\RKFN 

xili 


ACIFIC 
/■'roiilisp!Ci\ 

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ADi; 

4 

6 

S 

10 

20 

2(, 

Si) 
S3 
92 
136 
170 
1S4 
I./, 

250 
262 
26,^ 
272 
274 
276 
296 

344 
39') 
406 
466 
5  "4 
511 
512- 


Hi 


i 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE  START— WINNIPEG  AND  MANITOBA— THE  CANADIAN  rACIFIC 

RAILROAD— SCKNKKV  IN    THE   ROCKIES,   THE  SELKIRKS 

AND  ON   THE   FKASEK   RIVER. 

^'ictoria,  British  Coliwibia,  August  3,  1887. 

Having  resolved  to  make  a  race  with  the  sun,  around  the  world, 
it  became  a  matter  of  some  moment  the  choice  of  route  we  should 
pursue.  We  recognized  the  fact  that  Old  Sol  moved  on  a  smooth 
and  beaten  track.  For  countless  cons  he  had  moved  majestically 
along  the  same  even  road.  No  ups  and  downs  ;  no  stations 
v/here  he  has  to  stop  to  take  food  or  water;  comets  feed  his 
nery  chargers  ;  their  tails,  whisking  around  millions  of  miles,  fan 
their  foaming  flanks  ;  worn-out  worlds  drop  into  their  mangers  to 
feed  them,  without  the  necessity  of  a  halt ;  asteroids  and  bursting 
meteors  furnish  their  driver  with  whip-cracks  with  which  to  en- 
courage them  to  maintain  their  speed  ;  their  own  fiery  nostrils 
light  them  along  their  trackless  path.  Countless  millions  of  ages 
ago  the  mighty  Eternal  awoke  them  from  their  bcginninglcss 
sleep  whcji  His  fiat,  "  Let  there  be  light,"  reverberating  through- 
out chaotic  space,  and  rolling  through  its  dark  chasms  and  caves, 
echoed  from  its  frowning  crags,  caught  and  returned  from  limit- 
less heights,  was  obeyed,  and  "  Light  was."  Their  next  rest  will 
be  when  comes  a  crash  of  worlds,  and  the  same  Eternal  shall 
shout,  in  wrathful  thunder,  "  It  is  ended." 

Ours  was  an  unequal  task.  We  knew  we  would  be  handicapped, 
not  only  from  day  to  day,  but  from  hour  to  hour  ;  we  would  have 
mountains  to  climb,  valleys  to  span,  oceans  to  cross,  and  storms 
and  tempests  to  turn  us  from  our  road.  We  would  have  to  pick 
our  course  through  countless  obstacles  by  day,  and  to  feel  our 
way  among  countless  dangers  by  night.  Knowing  our  rival  would 
be  forced  to  travel  a  .lousand  miles  an  hour  within  the  tropics, 
we  determined  to  go  far  to  the  north,  where  contracted  degrees 
would  reduce  our  mileage  to  nearly  half  of  the  tropical  distance. 

We  therefore  left  Chicago  for  northern  Manitoba.  We  ran 
through  wooded  Wisconsin,  rested  a  few  hours  at  ambitious  St. 


.f 


J  A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 

Paul  dashed  througli  the  great  -rain  fields  of  northern  Minnc- 
Tota  e  e  ed  he  dominion^  of  her  mueh-jubileed  Majesty,  and 
sSed  on  our  race  at  high-boomed  Winnipeg,  on  the  50th  degree, 

""Cthe  wi!^;  the  ••  boom '^it  the  capital  of  Manitoba  wasnot^ 


ulative  fever,  would  not  have  been  commenced  for  years  to  come. 
The  city  has  many  fine  private  buildings,  a  beautiful  city  hall,  three 
cle<'ant  fire-engine  houses,  several  well  paved  streets,  and  a  mill 
which  turns  ou't  900  barrels  of  Hour  daily.  The  people  resemble, 
in  dress  and  movements,  the  thriving,  bustling  populatioii  of  our 
northwcstern  States  much  more  than  they  do  the  self-satisfiedand 
slow-looking  Canucks  of  Ontario  and  eastern  Canada.  At  night 
they  walked  about  with  pleasure-seeking  energy,  rather  than 
the  listless,  slow,  aimless  step  of  those  we  see  along  the  railroads 
which  run  among  their  brothers  of  the  cast. 

Manitoba,— by  the  way,  they  lay  the  accent  upon  the  "  o  "  in- 
stead of  on  the  final  "a."  though  I  suspect  k  to  be  wrong,  for  I 
was  told  the  compound  word  is  "  Manito  "  "  ba  "  (God  speaks), 
from  the  Indian  idea  that  the  thunder  is  louder  here  than  elsewhcr;, 
— -Manil  oa  is  a  grand  province.  From  the  United  States  bound- 
ary, stretching  north  and  south  about  150  miles,  by  120  miles  east 
and  west,  it  is  a  splendid  small-grain  country.  The  land  is  not  held 
by  great  individual  owners  or  by  syndicates,  but  in  small  holdings, 
rarely  larger  than  a  section,  and  generally  only  a  half.  Tln^  farms 
are  better  cultivated  than  in  Minnesota.  The  fields  aremu.  i  freer 
from  weeds,  and  the  crops  better  than  any  thing  we  saw  on  our 
way  in  the  States,  except  in  a  small  section  near  Crookston.  Wc 
were  told  the  expectation  was  for  an  average  crop  of  25  bushels  to 
the  acre.  Some  fields,  we  thought,  in  passing,  would  nearly 
touch  40.  At  Winnipeg  we  boarded  the  Canadian  Pacific. 
For  a  considerable  distance  the  country  is  perfectly  flat,  with  a 
soil  of  great  depth  ;  ditches  will  make  it  all  finely  arable.  From 
Portage  La  Prairie  westward  the  surface  is  undulating,  often  high- 
rolling,  and  for  109  miles  to  Virden  is  as  beautiful  prairie  as  one 
could  wish  to  sec.  North  and  south  in  this  belt  the  same  charac- 
teristics, we  were  told  by  a  well-informed  gentleman,  extended 
from  the  United  States  line  to  the  northern  limits  of  the  province. 

What  cunning  chaps  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  people  were  ! 
For  long  years  they  told  the  world  that  this  was  a  region  only  fit 
for  fur-bearing  animals.  But  now,  since  the  iron  horse  has 
snatched  the  reins  from  this  great  cormorant,  we  find  this  mighty 
northwest  a  country  capable  of  supporting  millions  of  happy 
agricultural  people.  Rivers  abound,  running  in  deep-cut  banks, 
into  which  the  lowest  and  flattest  land  can  be  drained.     Wood  is 


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IN  MANITOBA.  3 

not  so  far  off  that  it  cannot  be  had  in  sufificicnt  quantities  for  domes- 
tic purposes,  and  coal-fields  lie  so  close  to  the  rivers  that  coal  can 
be  transported  by  water  if  the  rail  fails  to  do  the  work.  In  the 
summer  season  the  sun  pours  down  a  flood  of  heat.  The  nights 
are  cool  now,  and  we  were  told  arc  always  so.  Years  ago,  when 
the  American  cry  was  "  54°  40',  or  fight,"  I  was  a  Whig,  and 
twitted  the  Democrats  for  coming  down  to  49*^.  I  now  feel  like 
still  twitting  my  old  Democratic  brethren  of  the  past  for  not 
standing  up  for  54°  40'.  I  am  not  very  acquisitive  of  territory 
for  our  country,  but  I  confess  to  a  strong  feeling  that  Uncle  Sam 
ought  to  own  from  the  Superior  up  to  Alaska  and  on  to  the  Pa- 
cific. Let  it  not  be  understood  that  we  would  do  any  better  for 
the  people  than  the  Dominion  is  doing.  They  are  thriving,  and 
the  Canadian  Pacific  Company  has  built  a  road  which  none  of  our 
transcontinental  railroatls  can  surpass.  It  is  thoroughly  laid, 
smooth,  and  finely  ballasted.  The  depots  or  stations  are  built 
with  taste,  and  bridges  are  erected  with  great  strength.  In  the 
far  west  experimental  farms  are  worked  so  as  to  give  the  emigrant 
actual  knowledge  of  what  the  soil  is  capable  of  producing. 

After  leaving  Virden  the  country  assumes  less  of  a  prairie  ap- 
pearance and  more  tiiat  of  a  western  plain,  but  sage-brush  does 
not  commence  for  a  long  distance,  and,  in  fact,  is  light  at  any 
point  9n  the  road.  Some  200  miles  were  passed  by  us  at 
night  when  we  were  generally  asleep,  but  occasionally  I  would 
look  from  my  window,  and  was  thus  able  to  make  a  tolerably 
accurate  survey.  The  twilight  of  this  latitude  is  so  lo  ig  that  the 
traveller  is  enabled  to  see  much  which  in  more  southern  climes 
would  be  lost  in  darkness.  We  left  Winnipeg  at  9:40  a.m.,  on 
the  29th.  Early  on  the  30th  we  were  constantly  at  the  windows 
or  on  the  platform.  Indians  were  occasionally  seen  at  the  sta- 
tions, decked  in  bright-colored  blankets,  and  with  faces  painted 
as  heavily  as  those  of  watering-place  belles.  Their  "  tepees  "  (tents) 
could  be  seen  near  by  in  groups  of  from  four  to  ten.  They  all 
had  for  sale  horns  of  their  old  friend,  the  buffalo.  Cattle  ranches 
are  scattered  over  the  country.  Habitations,  however,  as  we  ran 
westward,  became  scarce  and  ranches  fewer.  Many  lakes  were 
passed  covered  with  geese  and  duck.  Sometimes  we  could  see 
young  broods  of  the  latter,  of  the  size  of  quail,  on  small  streams 
not  over  twenty  feet  from  our  train.  The  plain  was  now  the 
"  coteau  de  Missouri,"  but  not  arid  as  the  same  plain  is  on  the 
Northern  Pacific  road.  The  whole  country  is  pleasantly  green 
with  patches  of  "  down  "  diversifying  the  landscape.  Occasionally 
we  would  see  lakes  with  edges  white  with  alkali  running  into 
purple  water-weed.  Several  of  the  small  alkali  ponds  were  dried 
up  and  looked  like  plats  of  driven  snow.  The  grass  is  short  but 
thick,  and  is  of  the  prairie  kind,  with  a  variety  resembling  bufTalo 
grass  intermixed.  Frequently  for  long  stretches  we  would  pass 
among  bush  openings,  which  gave  a  park-like  appearance  to  the 


4  A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 

olain  Several  of  the  towns  have  from  400  to  800  inhabitants. 
Two  hiuulrcd  and  odd  miles  west  of  Winnipeg,  at  a  yillap  named 
Moosomin,  wc  saw  a  lawn-tennis  party  and  a  couple  of  nickel-plated 
bicycles  ridden  by  ambitious  young  men,  this  too  m  the  territory 
of  Assiniboia,  north  of  western  Dakota.  _ 

All  through  the  ride  on  the  30th  we  were  in  the  region  where 
buffalo  formerly  abounded.  Hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  their 
old  trails  were  deep  furrowed  into  the  prairie,  crossing  the  road 
from  south  to  north.  What  countless  thousands  must,  year  after 
year,  have  trodden  in  these  furrows  to  have  worn  them  so  deep 
into'thc  dry  hard  soil.  Now  and  then  their  bones  would  fleck 
the  prairie  in  white  patches,  and  at  the  stations  tons  were  ready 
in  huge  piles  for  shipment  east,  to  make  handles  for  tooth-brushes 
and  bonc-cmst  for  soda  fountains.  It  w.is  sad  to  think  of  the  vast 
numbers  of  these  old  moiiarchs  of  the  plains  wliich  liad  been 
slaughtered  in  mad  love  for  killing.  The  poor  Indians,  relics  of 
former  ages,  who  are  now  living  upon  tlie  bounty  of  the  conquer- 
ing  whites,  do  not  so  much  arouse  one's  sympathies,  as  the  wanton 
de'^struction  of  the  red  man's  friend— the  bison— awakens  disgust. 
The  Indian  would  not  learn  civili/atitm,  and  refused  and  refuses 
to  obey  the  order  to  earn  bread  by  the  sweat  of  the  face.  They 
had  to  go  for  civilization's  sake ;  but  the  buffalo  committed  no 
other  crime  than  that  of  being  the  Indian's  friend,  and  ofafford- 
ing  an  easy  target  for  the  wanton  murderer.  Seventeen  years  ago 
I  passed  on  the  Union  Pacific  through  a  herd  of  many  tliousands 
at  Platte  Station.  Their  beef  was  then  jilenty  and  cheai)  all 
along  the  plains,  and  millions  were  yearly  making  their  annual 
migration.  For  hundreds  of  miles  along  the  Canadian  Pacific  are 
the  countless  trails  they  dug  into  a  soil  almost  as  hard  as  rock  as 
they  marched,  in  single  file,  from  pasturage  to  pasturage  and  from 
water  to  water.  Now,  it  is  said,  there  are  not  over  one  or  two 
hundred  wild  buffalo  in  the  whole  land. 

As  we  fly  on  westward  the  plain  becomes  browner  and  browner, 
but  rarely  entirely  loses  its  green,  and  everywhere  there  are  damp 
spots  where  it  is  of  brightest  emerald.  The  great  j)lains  on  this 
road  have  but  little  of  the  painful  monotony  which  oppresses  one 
for  such  great  distances  on  the  other  Pacific  roads.  The  rolling 
prairies  seem  to  rise  and  fall  like  old  ocean's  swell,  always  the  same, 
but  ever  seeming  to  move  and  vary.  One  can  watch  the  swell  at 
sea  day  after  day  and  not  grow  weary.  These  plains  affected  me 
much  in  the  same  way.  I  could  traverse  them  again  next  week 
with  pleasure.  They  are  always  fresh  to  the  eye.  This  of  itself 
will  make  this  a  favorite  route  for  transcontinental  tourists.  In 
the  whole  ride,  too,  we  were  only  three  or  four  times  troubled  by 
dust,  although  we  rode  much  of  the  time  on  the  rear  platform. 
The  dusty  places  were  only  of  a  few  miles  in  extent. 

At  Medicine  Hat,  600  miles  west  of  Winnipeg,  we  crossed 
the  south  fork  of  the  Saskatchewan  River.     Here,  and  for  a  long 


i 


3 


I 

4 


THE    CHANCELLOR,  OTTER  TAIL   RANGE,  ROCKY   MOUNTAINS.     CANADIAN    PACIFIC   RAILWAY 


■JJU- 


JiANFF  AND  ITS  HOT  SPRIXGS. 


distance,  it  Is  a  .iavi.ifablc  stream  sdiue  400  yarils  wide.  Above 
this  place,  50  to  itX)  miles,  are  fine  coal-fields.  The  coal  looked 
pure,  and  our  dinin},f-car  cook  assured  us  it  was  the  best-cooking 
coal  in  America.  Before  night  we  should  have  seen  the  Rockies, 
but  did  not,  because  of  the  smoky  atmosphere.  Sixty  miles  from 
their  foot  lies  Calgary,  a  town  of  2.000  people,  the  centre  of  the 
great  ranch  district,  where  ranches  with  many  thousands  of  horses 
abound.  The  grazing  country  is  said  to  be  very  fine,  and  extends 
far  south  down  into  Montana.  The  plains  here  are  very  hand- 
some, and  the  bunch  grass  is  prettily  green.  The  land  grows  good 
wheat  but  better  grass. 

At  three  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  3i.st  we  reached  the 
sanitarium  Hanff.  We  stopped  over  a  day,  anil  took  two  baths, 
one  at  tlie  hot  springs,  temperature  from  '  10^  to  120",  said  to 
have  the  specific  virtues  of  the  Arkuisas  springs,  and  sought 
for  the  same  class  of  diseases.  I  do  no;  think  the  bath  produces 
the  heavy  sweats  produced  by  those  of  Arkansas,  but  still  I  had 
to  lie  for  half  an  iiour  beft^-e  I  became  dry  enough  to  dress.  Sev- 
eral hundred  feet  below  this  spring  are  two  others,  within  100 
feet  of  eacii  other.  One  is  in  a  cave  or  grotto,  about  25  feet  in 
diameter,  with  a  natural  vaulted  dome,  say  30  feet  high,  as  perfect 
as  if  cut  by  the  hammer.  It  is  now  entered  by  an  artificial  tunnel 
100  feet  long,  antl  is  lighted  by  a  small  natur.i!  oiiening  at  the 
apex.  In  the  grotto  is  a  natatorium,  surrounded  by  pretty  stalac- 
tites, with  water  five  feet  deep  boiling  up  from  the  sanily  bottom, 
with  a  temperature  of  95°.  Cold  water  pours  from  a  large  sjiell- 
shapcd  stalactite  in  sufficient  quantity  to  make  a  cold  shower. 
One  can  thus  swim  around  in  warm  water,  and  then  cool  off  his 
upper  body,  while  from  his  waist  down  he  is  in  a  warm  bath.  A 
hundred  feet  from  this  is  another  large  pool,  20  feet  across,  of 
about  the  same  depth,  and  being  in  the  open  air  the  warm  water 
can  be  seen  bubbling  up  through  the  sands.  Both  this  and  the 
Cave  springs  have  streams  flowing  from  them  as  large  as  a  first- 
class  fire-engine  could  pump.  The  cave  spring  discharges  at  its 
outlet  without  coloring  the  soil  along  the  rivulet,  while  the  other 
makes, a  white  deposit.  This  is  from  a  magnesiate  of  lime,  impreg- 
nated with  iron  and  sulphur. 

Banff  is  2,400  feet  above  the  sea,  and  is  nestled  down  among 
mountains  rising  over  5,000  feet  above  the  hotel,  all  of  them  this 
year  with  snow  on  their  summits  and  far  down  the  sides  in  the 
deep  gorges.  The  sanitarium  and  hotel  of  the  railroad  is  upon 
the  bank  of  Bow  River,  a  stream  over  400  feet  wide,  of  crystal 
clearness,  slightly  whitened  by  glacier  water.  The  river  under  the 
hotel  breaks  through  walls  of  rock  two  or  more  hundred  feet  high, 
forming  a  succession  of  cascades  or  r.'.pids  of  60  feet  fall,  in  say, 
140  yards.  The  views  of  snow-clad  n.ountains,  the  river,  the  cas- 
cades, and  whirling  pool  below  make  the  situation  of  the  hotel  one 
of  the  finest  I  have  ever  seen.     Trout  abound  in  the  river  of  all 


I 


6  A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 

angline  sizes.  A  lake-trout  was  brought  i;.  from  Devil's  Lake, 
12  miles  oft,  while  we  were  there,  weighing  43  Poun^s.  Banff  is 
in  the  National  Park  of  260  square  miles.  With  commendable 
wisdom,  the  government  is  building  throughout  the  park  fine 
roads  laid  out' bv  skilled  engineers.  _ 

At  three  o'clock  Monday  morning  we  took  the  west-going  tram, 
and  went  to  bed ;  but  the  early  light  made  us  shorten  our  nap, 
for  we  were  in  wildly  grand  scenery.  Now  we  were  rushing 
throu"-h  noblo  passes  on  the  mountain  sides,  then  under  precipices 
lifting"  thousands  of  feet  above  us.  Snow-clad  mountains  were 
ever  standing  like  grand  sentinels  about  our  way.  The  engine 
puffs  and  snorts  as  it  pulls  us  up  the  steep  grade.  The  snow 
gorges  crawl  down  nearer  and  nearer  to  us.  The  snowy  peaks 
seem  piled  one  above  the  other  far  above  us.  The  stream  we 
have  climbed  gets  smaller  and  smaller,  till  at  Mount  Stephen  we 
ar'  at  the  summit.  5.300  feet  above  the  sea,  while  above  us  lift  the 
might\-  rocky  sides  of  the  mountain,  its  peak  almost  over  our 
head,  8,200  foot  abo\  e  the  rail.  The  Bow  River  here  begins  in  a 
little  lake,  while  close  by  in  a  swamp  is  the  fountain  of  the  Kick- 
i'lg  Horso,  down  whose  can^'ons  wc  must  go  for  many  a  mile. 
Hue  starts  the  former,  whose  waters  flow  far  away  into  Hudson's 
Bay.  There,  almost  within  a  stone's  throw,  starts  the  other  to 
carry  Stephen's  icy  waters  into  the  Pacific.  Hour  after  hour  wc 
whirl  along,  in  ever-rapid  curving,  down  the  .canyon.  Lofty 
mountains  arc  on  either  side  in  vast  ]:)reci])ices.  Wc  look  up  upon 
snow,  now  and  then  hardened  into  a  glacier;  we  look  down  from 
the  rock-cut  terrace,  along  which  we  bound,  and  sec  a  stream 
of  moving  foam,  now  in  cascade,  then  in  rapids,  never  still  enough 
to  lose  its  snowy  froth.  Hour  after  hour  we  are  in  scenes  of 
grandeur  and  beauty.  I  say  beauty,  for  the  white  snow,  the 
foaming  waters,  the  green  trees—these  are  beautiful,  while  the 
mountains,  with  their  frowning  precipices,  their  rocky  pinnacles 
piercing  the  blue  sky,  are  grand.  For  60  miles  it  is  the  same 
wonderful  scenery.  Our  little  creek  has  become  a  river,  nar- 
row, but  pouring  towards  the  sea  nearly  as  much  water  as  flows 
down  the  Ohio  at  ordinary  summer  stage. 

At  9  o'clock  our  rushing,  roaring  river  has  emptied  into  the 
Columbia,  which  has  come  up  from  the  United  States  with  its 
milk-white  glacier  flood.  It  rolls  in  rapid  current  towards  the 
north,  washing  the  foot  of  Mount  Brown  20  miles  away.  It 
will  bend  westward  beyond  the  Selkirk  range,  at  whose  western 
base  we  will  cross  it  again,  after  having  steamed  nearly  a  100 
miles  through  yet  grander  scenery.  U'e  cross  the  river  ;  wc  look 
back  and  see  the  towering  Rockies.  We  look  forward  and  no 
great  way  off  lift  the  Selkirks.  The  ascent  commences  at  once  ; 
first  up  the  Beaver,  which  near  the  Columbia  passes  through  a 
gate  one  can  scarcely  believe  to  be  of  nature's  fashioning.  Two 
vertical  slate  precipices,  only  a  few  feet  thick,  lift  themselves  up 


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SCENERY  IN  THE  S ELK  IRKS. 


like  the  framework  of  a  portcullis,  through  which  the  little  river 
rushes.  A  door  20  feet  wide,  set  against  the  gateway,  would  stop 
the  whole  stream.  Up  this  river,  and  then  up  Bear  Creek  we  climb. 
The  river  is  at  first  a  few  feet  beneath  us.  Up  we  go.  The  river 
is  a  100,  then  400,  then  1,000  feet  below.  Still  up,  till  far  be- 
low us — 2,000  feet — now  through  timber,  and  then  over  the  tops 
of  lofty  firs,  we  see  the  stream  winding  through  marshy  grass, 
which  one  of  us  insists  is  a  wheat-field.  VVe  seem  to  hang  on  the 
mountain's  side.  Now  the  road  runs  through  tunnels  ;  then  it  is 
timbered  out  over  precipices. 

We  are  soon  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains;  far  up  their  sides, 
till  the  snow  and  rocks  are  met,  arc  magnificent  forests  of  pine  and 
fir,  with  stems  as  straight  as  arrows.  I  said  we  were  in  the  moun- 
tains' heart.  I  was  too  quick.  We  soon  will  be,  for  we  break 
through  a  pass  between  two  peaks  clad  in  eternal  snow.  The 
snow  is  nearly  down  to  our  level,  which  is  here  4,300  feet  above 
the  sea.  See  yonder  white  precipice  ;  it  is  the  foot  of  a  mighty 
glacier,  luindrcds  of  feet  thick,  and  pushed  down  in  hardened 
stream  from  the  upper  peak  yet  far  above  and  beyond  its  brow. 
The  scenery  now  is  grand  beyond  the  power  of  language  to  paint. 
One  glacier  frowns  upon  another.  To  our  right  we  pass  tlie  sum- 
mit, and  two  miles  on  we  reach  the  Glacier  House,  a  Swiss  chalet, 
in  front  of  which  are  pretty  fountains  throwing  up  icy  jets  ;  and 
apparently  a  few  hundred  yards  away  to  our  left,  is  a  monster 
glacier,  with  its  foot  not  much  above  the  level  of  the  road.  With 
a  glass  we  see  mighty  fissures  cracking  its  surface.  It  bends  over 
the  mountain  like  a  falling  curtain.  We  are  told  it  is  a  mile  and  a 
half  wide,  nine  miles  long,  and  500  feet  deep.  Mount  Sir  Donald 
is  watching  its  slow  descent.  Far  above  the  snow,  his  peak,  shaped 
like  a  diamond  drill,  pierces  the  blue  sky  6,000  feet  above  us.  We 
have  to  bend  our  heads  back  to  look  at  his  pinnacle.  The  de- 
scent is  now  down  a  silvery  thread,  called  the  Illecillewact  River. 
It  tumbles  in  cascades,  and  as  it  tumbles  it  grows.  We  get  down 
hill  by  making  iron  loops.  One  could  pitch  a  marble  from  the 
window  upon  the  track  below,  which  we  will  reach  after  bending 
as  on  the  link  of  a  chain.  After  a  while  the  little  silver  thread  has 
become  a  foaming  stream,  then  a  rushing  river,  so  strong  that  it 
cuts  its  way  between  two  perpendicular  cliffs  in  a  canyon  appa- 
rcnll}-  not  over  25  feet  wide,  but  several  hundred  feet  deep. 
The  river  springs  through  this  like  a  madman  in  a  leap  then 
foams  along  for  miles  below.  At  last,  after  a  run  of  seventy  odd 
miles  through  the  Selkirk's,  we  emerge  from  them  and  cross  the 
Columbia,  a  stream  greatly  grown  since  we  saw  it  last  100  miles 
back. 

After  a  while  we  enter  another  system  of  mountains — the  Gold 
range.  The  scenery  in  these  would  be  glorious,  but  we  are 
satiated  with  grandeur,  and  are  more  delighted  by  the  beautiful 
lakes,  along  whose  margins  we  run,  than  by  the  heights  above  us. 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


After  leaving  this  range,  wc  arc  upon  waters  which  empty  into 
the  Frazcr  River.  Before  night  we  pass  several  beautiful  lakes. 
One  of  them,  the  Shuswap,  is  of  very  considerable  extent  ;  we 
run  alono-  its  shores  for  over  50  miles.  Its  width  vanes  from  one 
to  four  o'r  five  miles.  Peaks  2,000  to  3.000  feet  high  lift  them- 
selves above  its  waters,  now  by  steep  ascent,  then  by  sloping 
benches.     Its  waters  are  said  to  be  full  of  fish ;  we  frequently  saw 

them  rising. 

The  next  morning  we  were  upon  the  Trazer.  Here  wc  had  a 
different  character  of  scenery  from  any  before  seen.  The  road 
runs  along  the  bank  of  the  river,  perhaps  loo  feet  above 
the  water,  nearly  all  the  time  upon  ledges  cut  into  the  rock  or 
upon  the  steeply  descending  sides  of  the  mountains.  Wc  must 
have  gone  through  30  tunnels,  in  length  from  a  few  hundred 
feet  to  several  hundreil  yards,  all  cut  through  solid  granite.  The 
river  runs  tiirough  rocky  canyons  at  the  foot  of  mountains  lifting 
2,500  to  4,000  feet.  P  lany  of  them  were  of  bare  rock,  others  beau- 
tifully treed.  Behind  these  immediately  along  the  river  arc  yet 
higher  peaks,  more  or  less  flecked  with  snow.  Laughing  brooks 
and  foaming  streams  are  frecjuently  crossed,  coming  down  gorges 
in  bounding  cascades.  The  Frazer  is  a  mighty  river  of  white 
water  rising  500  miles  away  among  ranges  covered  with  eternal 
snows.  It  is  joined  where  we  struck  it  b\-  the  Thompson,  itself  a 
noble  stream.  It  flows  in  turbulent  current,  now  several  hundred 
yards  wide,  then  cutting  its  way  through  rocky  doors  not  over 
100  feet  from  jamb  to  jamb.  Often  for  miles  it  rushes  in  fall  almost 
as  fast  as  a  cataract.  Below  each  fall  it  whirls  in  angry  pools  ;  on 
nearly  all  the  ledges  jutting  over  these  pools  are  frames  of  light 
wood,  on  which  the  Indians'  winter  supply  of  salmon  hangs  like 
red  tobacco  in  a  southern  field.  Indians  are  seen  perched  on 
projecting  ledges,  scooping  with  a  net,  shaped  like  a  tennis  bat, 
for  finny  beauties.  Their  fishing  huts  arc  on  nearly  every  green 
spot.  Here  and  there  is  seen  a  Chinese  washing  a  little  gold  from 
the  sands.  High  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  runs  the  road 
built  28  years  ago  by  the  government  to  the  Carabo  mines,  400 
miles  away.  It  often  runs  at  dizzy  heights  and  is  so  narrow  that 
the  stage-coach  passengers  must  have  been  in  constant  alarm — 
that  is.  if  they  were  other  than  gold-seekers.  For  these  fellows 
would  have  ridden  the  devil  barebacked,  and  never  felt  a  tremor, 
if  the  dust  was  at  the  journey's  end.  For  60  odd  miles  we  ran 
in  and  out  of  rock-hewn  tunnels,  over  trestles,  along  ledges  cut 
from  the  solid  rock,  and  over  terraces  built  from  many  feet  below. 
The  rushing  river  was  ever  some  50  to  200  feet  below  us,  while 
high  over  our  heads  and  frowning  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
canyon  the  steep  mountains  lifted  themselves  to  a  height  varying 
from  2,500  to  perhaps  4,000  feet.  They  were  often  rocky  but- 
tresses, their  steep  slopes  covered  with  pines  and  firs.  This  canyon 
is  alone  worth  the  trip,  and,  while  it  lacks  the  awful  grandeur 


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THE  FRAZER  RIVER.  g 

of  the  glaciercd  peaks  of  the  Rockies  and  Selkirks,  yet,  being 
always  so  close  to  us,  is  more  terrible  and  startling. 

After  leaving  it  we  ran  through  forests  of  giant  cedars — cedars 
two  to  five  feet  in  diameter.  But,  sad  to  say,  these  noble  trees  a 
good  part  of  the  time  stood  like  blackened  spectres,  and  often 
were  but  lofty  stumps  five  or  six  to  30  feet  high.  What  wild 
havoc  the  firc-ficnd  has  been  for  years,  and  yet  is,  making  in  the 
vast  forests  of  the  Pacific  slope  !  The  air  in  the  Selkirks  was  blue 
with  smoke,  and  so  it  was  from  their  base  to  the  end  of  the  road. 
The  air  even  here  on  the  south  side  of  Vancouver  Island  is  still 
hazy.  From  our  windows  we  ought  to  be  able  to  sec  Mount 
Baker's  snowy  crest,  far  to  the  southeast,  and  the  Olympian 
mountains,  only  some  30  or  40  miles  to  the  southwest.  In- 
stead of  that,  high  hills  only  ten  miles  away  are  dimly  seen  as 
bluish  masses  above  the  horizon.  Millions  of  trees,  such  as  would 
be  the  admiration  of  people  east  of  the  Mississippi,  are  now  burn- 
ing ;  millions  upon  millions  of  acres  have  been  within  the  last  five 
years  stripped  of  valuable  forests,  which  east  of  the  Rockies  would 
be  worth  many  times  more  than  all  the  gold  produced  within  these 
years  on  the  whole  Pacific  coast,  and  yet  many  of  the  fires  which 
have  destroyed  such  vast  wealth  have  been  started  by  mining 
prospectors.  They  burn  certain  wealth  not  their  own  above  the 
ground,  in  the  hope  of  finding  uncertain  signs  of  riches  which  may 
become  their  own,  but  is  now  hidden  beneath  the  surface. 

And  now  from  this  beautiful  land,  where  winter  never  freezes 
and  summer  never  parches ;  where,  though  eight  degrees  north  of 
Chicago,  the  honeysuckle  embowers  the  verandas  and  the  rose- 
bush is  a  small  tree  in  the  garden  ;  where  the  cherries  are  nearly 
as  large  as  plums,  and  the  red  raspberry  is  a  pulpy  monster; 
where  the  young  pine  makes  a  good  fishing-pole,  and  the  fir  is 
taller  than  the  mast  of  the  largest  ship  ;  where  cedars  are  mon- 
sters, and  the  balm  of  Gilead  is  like  a  big  cotton-wood  ; — from  this 
anomalous  clime,  good-morning. 


«aii 


T 


CHAPTER  II. 

TTMBER-rROnUCTIONS    AN1>    riXUl-lAKITIES    OF    OREGON    AND 

WASmNGTON-1-OKKST-KIRES  AND  SMOKE-SCENERY 

OF  THE  COIA-MTIA. 

Green  River,  Hot  Springs,  IV.  T.,  August  14,  1887. 

PUGET  Sound  is  one  of  the  world's  marvels.  It  lies  like  a  mighty 

antlcrcd  formation.      Its  inlets  and  arms,  running  20  to  60  miles 

fnto  the  land,  are  never  more  than    four   or  five  miles   broad 

and  are  often  not  over  a  half  mile,  with  a  depth  varying  from  50 

feet  to  hundreds  of  fathoms.     The  deep  Nvater  comes  up  close  to 

the  shore,  and  oftentimes  sheer  up,  so  that  the  largest  man-of- 

var  could  tie  to  a  forest  tree  whose  roots  are  watered  by  the 

ocean's  brine.     By  the  way.  why  is  it  that   in  the   hast  the  salt 

water  of  the  sea  prevents  trees  from  growing  anywhere  near  the 

shore  while  out  here  the  lower  limbs  of  great  trees  are  touched 

at  hioh  tide^  The  sound  has  but  few  harbors,  because  anchorage 

is  rarely  to  be  had.     Tlie  longest  cable  will  not  permit  an  anchor 

to  reach  bottom,  and  the  tides  will  not  let  a  ship  tie  to  the  shore. 

At  Tacoma  the  difference  between  low  and   high   tide  is  over 

^o  feet.     At  the  mouth   of  the  Strait  of  Fuca  it  is  less  than 

five  feet ;  but  the  tidal  waves  press  into  the  narrow  sound  and 

lift  themselves  up  to  nearly  30  feet  in  some  of  the  inlets.      The 

meeting  of  the  tides  creates  heavy,  angry  breakers. 

Seattle  and  Tacoma  are  the  great  rival  towns  of  the  sound. 
The  discrimination  against  vhc  former  by  the  Northern  Pacific 
Railroad  has  made  the  dislike  of  Tacoma  by  the  average  Seattlean 
something  absolutely  interesting.  She  is*-ying  to  get  even,  how- 
ever, and' will  soon  have  a  road  built  along  the  east  shorcof  the 
sound,  to  tap  the  Canadian  Pacific  near  Vancouver,  and  will  ulti- 
mately cross  the  mountains  to  meet  the  Manitoba  road,  which  is 
expected  to  enter  Helena  this  year,  and  will  then  stretch  out  for 
the  sound. 

The  trade  of  this  region  with  the  East  will  before  long  become 
great,  and  the  northwest  of  our  land  will  offer  greater  commercial 
attractions  than  does  the  orange-growing  southwestern  California. 
There  "  the  orange  and  citron  is  fairest  fruit."  But  here  the 
mighty  forests,  which  cover  the  lowlands  as  densely  as  the  jungles 
of  the  tropics,  and  climb  the  mountains  until  the  snow-line  is  met, 
can  furnish  the  world  with  timber  for  centuries.  But,  unfortu- 
nately,  the  people,  while  proud  of  their  grand  trees,  seem  to  think 


IP 


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HERMIT   MOUNTAIN,  ROUERS'  PASS.     CANADIAN    PACIFIC    RAILWAY. 


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THE  TIMBER  SUPPLY  OF  PUGET  SOUND. 


II 


them  inexhaustible,  and  are  each  year  burning  in  sheer  wantonness 
a  half-century's  supply.  It  is  calculated  that  over  a  hundred 
square  miles  of  forest  will  be  burnt  this  season. 

The  lumbermen,  who  ought  to  regard  them  as  their  great 
wealth-producers,  do  not  seem  at  all  distressed  at  this  terrible 
destruction,  for  they  say  that  fin-s  do  not  destroy  the  timber,  but 
simply  kill  the  trees.  And  that,  after  being  killed,  they  remain 
sound  for  several  years'  consumption,  while  tlie  loggers  get  the 
logs  out  much  easier  after  the  undergrowth  has  been  burnt. 
This  is  a  selfish  feeling,  especially  as  it  is  known  that  if  a  forest 
be  thoroughly  burnt  j-oung  pines  and  cedars  do  not  spring  up  in 
the  future.  It  is  the  exception  on  this  coast  when  young  forests 
follow  a  fire.  The  summers  here  are  so  dry  that  the  delicate 
seeds  of  the  evergreen  do  not  germinate  as  they  would  if  rains 
were  even  moderately  frequent.  The  seeds  cannot  grow  as  they 
would  if  protected  by  dense  shades.  The  soil  is  burnt  up.  The 
trees  are  so  enormously  large  and  their  roots  extend  so  close  to 
the  surface,  that  after  a  fire  there  is  nothing  left  but  ashes  from 
four  to  six  inches  deep.  No  one  who  has  not  gone  through  the 
forests  of  this  coast  can  have  any  idea  of  the  enormous  amount  of 
timber  growing  upon  a  given  surface.  An  old  army  officer  told 
us  he  had  to  make  calculations  as  to  the  number  of  feet  stand- 
ing upon  some  land,  and  fixed  it  at  200,000  feet  of  sawed 
lumber  jjer  acre,  and  that,  too,  where  the  trees  were  not  large. 
We  have  now  had  a  good  opportunity  for  seeing  some  of  the 
heaviest  forests.  We  have  fished  along  three  streams,  and  have 
found  out  by  experience  the  great  labor  necessary  to  get  through 
the  wood  along  water  courses.  The  close  proximity  of  one  tree 
to  another,  and  their  vast  height,  is  simply  marvellous.  The 
roots  of  one  mingle  with  the  roots  of  its  neighbor.  The  trunks 
stand  four  to  six  feet  in  diameter,  and  nearly  300  feet  in  height, 
and  could  furnish  saw-logs  180  to  230  feet  long.  I  yesterday  ran 
mj-  fishing-line  arouml  a  cedar  six  feet  from  the  ground,  and  found 
it  to  be  over  31  feet  in  circumference,  or  over  ten  feet  in 
diameter.  There  was  another,  not  ten  feet  away,  which  was  over 
six  feet  in  diameter.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek,  on  the  steep 
slope  of  a  foothill,  were  some  20  acres  of  pines  of  vast  height,  all 
three  to  five  feet  in  diameter,  and  so  close  together  that  they 
seemed  almost  a  solid  mass. 

To  reach  the  stream  where  we  intended  to  commence  fishing, 
we  had  to  cross  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  bottom  land,  over 
which  a  heavy  wind  had  passed  last  year.  The  enormous  trees 
were  thrown  about  in  vast  confusion.  I  walked  along  a  huge  log 
to  its  upper  end,  and  the  weedy  undergrowth  appeared  so  solid 
at  the  side  that  I  supposed  it  was  only  a  few  inches  deep.  I 
stepped  ofT  the  log,  which,  as  I  thought,  was  there  a  foot  thick,  and 
on  the  ground,  when,  lo  !  I  sank  up  to  my  shoulders  in  dense 
growth.      When   fishing  yesterday,  our  guide  at  a  certain  point 


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I 


13 


./  A'./r/;  //77V/  ry/A  .sxw. 


arc  fi^ui.iiiK-1'  ""^ -  -   - 

able  tliiin  a  trout  in  a  stream.  Wlicii  I  i;ot  home  they  were  not 
there.  I  supposed  our  ^niide  would  brii^i,^  tliem  in.  Presently  he 
arrived  without  them.  Dusk  and  then  dark  came  on.  I  wa.s 
alarmed.  Their  whole  fishin^'-Ljround  from  bridi^e  to  hotel,  which 
is  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  was  not  in  extent  a  mile.  The  f,aii(le 
and  I  went  up  the  railroad,  and  hallooet!  as  lou<ll\  as  possible,  I)ut 
could  Ljet  no  answer,  and  yet  the  river  was  nowhere  ;i  ([u.irter  of 
a  mile'from  the  track.  To  reach  it  throiiijh  the  woods  without  a 
torcii  was  nearly  impossible,  and  to  _l,'o  ilown  stream  d.mL^erous  at 
nijjiit.  We  returned  anil  found  the  whole  population  in  wild  com- 
motion. The  women  spoke  of  bears.  Some  men  feared  tliat,  al- 
thou;4h  the  deepest  pools  were  not  over  head  deep,  yet  they  mi<,dit 
have  been  sucked  by  the  rapid  current  untler  adrift.  Others  said 
darkness  had  caui^h't  them,  und  the\-  had  built  a  fire  to  camp  for 
the  night. 

We  got  up  an  expedition  with  a  single  obtainable  lantern,  bor- 
roweil  at  the  little  railroad  station.  We  walked  up  the  tr.ick 
until  oj)posite  the  fishing-ground.  We  fired  pistols.  Xo  answer. 
We  then  fired  a  rifle.  Its  clear  note  cut  the  forest  air,  ami  was 
echoed  back  from  the  foot-hills,  a  half-mile  off.  But  sweeter  still 
than  the  echo  came  a  view  halloo  from  Willie,  and  then  the  shrill 
whistle  of  Johnii}-.  The  woods  between  them  ami  us  liad  been 
burnt  this  season.  W^'  struck  an  liulian  file,  two  before  the  lan- 
tern and  two  bcliiiu!.  A  couple  of  hundred  yards  in  we  ^ot  be- 
wildered. We  retrace'.!  our  steps  ox'er  logs  as  high  as  one's  head, 
down  into  holes  oi  ,.•  nes  iiearK-  up  to  the  knee,  and  again  reached 
the  road  and  fired  our  guns.  We  heard  an  answer.  I  then  sent 
the  party  in,  while  I  mountetl  a  stump  to  watch  the  lantern  and 
to  guide  them  by  my  pistol-shots.  In  about  a  ([uarter  of  an  liour 
a  volley  of  sliots  told  us  the  lost  were  found.  In  another  quarter 
of  an  hour  we  saw  the  light  coming  b.ick.  John  and  W^illie  had  a 
tale  to  tell.  They  had  not  hatl  a  clear  knowledge  of  the  length 
of  their  fishing  mute.  They  had  nearlj-  reached  the  hotel  with- 
out their  knowledge.  It  began  to  grow  dark,  and  they  thought 
it  best  to  retrace  their  steps  to  the  bridge.  Darkness  came  on. 
They  calmly  built  a  fire  to  wait  till  morning,  or  till  they  should 
be  found.  Hoth  were  black  from  climbing  burnt  logs,  and  both 
were  forlorn  in  appearance,  but  happy  in  the  possession  of  a  new 
experience.  Their  camp-fire  was  close  to  the  bank  of  the  rushing 
stream,  and  its  noise  too  great  for  them  to  iiear  shouts,  or  even  a 
pistol-shot  at  first.  Had  they  attempted  to  reach  the  road  in  the 
dark  they  would  have    been  half  stripped  and  badly  mangled. 


4 


•I 


)? 


I 


4 


PECULIARITIES  OF  OREGON  AND  WASHINGTON.     13 

Even  with  a  liglit  it  took  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  make  a  fifth  of 
a  mile. 

Tlie  hiniber  of  this  region  is  reaching  an  enormous  product. 
One  mill  at  Tacoma  cuts  200,000  feet  a  day.  There  are  a  few 
others  as  large,  and  everywhere  heavy  cutting  establishments. 
All  lumber  is  shipjjcd  as  square  timber,  to  be  cut  up  near  the 
market.  A  few  pieces  have  been  shippi:d  to  .South  Anuirica 
120  feet  in  length.  From  40  to  80  feet  is  not  at  all  uncommon. 
\Vc  saw  lumber  going  East  stretching  over  the  entire  length  of 
two  long  cars.  Logs  are  barked  in  the  woods,  then  one  end  is 
cut  slightly  sloping,  so  as  to  run  easily  over  roots  and  skid   roails. 

Here  wa^jes  in  the  woods  are  high,  good  o.\  teamsters  com- 
manding .iver  Sioo  per  month.  It  is  not  every  man  who 
can  get  out  of  Buck  and  Hrindlc  their  entire  muscular  abil- 
ity. A  skilled  teamster,  with  his  thumb  gouging  a  bull's 
flank,  can  make  the  honest  fellow  almost  crack  his  yoke.  One 
thing  strikes  the  stranger  as  singular — that  is.  the  enormous 
height  of  the  stumps.  The  pitch  or  turpentine  of  the  trees  lies 
in  the  trunk  si.\  to  ten  feet  above  the  ground.  The  tree  is  felled 
above  this  line.  This  is  not  entirely  waste,  for  the  saw  will  hardly 
cut  the  timber  in  the  stump,  and  when  cut  it  is  unsalable.  Hy 
the  wa_\-,  we  heard  of  one  tract  of  160  acres,  from  which  it  is  claimed 
near!}-  700,000  feet  of  timber — board  measure — wajicut  from  e.ich 
acre,  and  of  a  single  tree  which  cut  45,000  feet.  We  did  not  see 
this,  but  have  reason  to  believe  the  statement  true. 

In  many  respects  (Oregon  and  Washington  present  anomalies. 
Much  Indian  corn  is  grown  in  different  parts  of  Oregon,  not  for 
maturity,  but  to  be  consumed  green.  The  ground  is  jjloughed, 
the  corn  planteil,  and  in  the  majority  of  fields  is  not  cultivated  at 
all.  but  left  to  work  out  its  growth.  If  the  season  be  good  the 
farmer  makes  money  selling  roasting  ears ;  if  bad,  he  gets  some 
fodder.  One  good  rain  makes  a  crop  on  the  whole  coast,  it  mat- 
ters not  what  the  thing  be.  The  rapidity  of  growth  is  aln;ost  as 
marvellous  as  is  the  size  attained. 

We  boarded  the  train  at  Dallas,  on  the  Columbia,  in  upper 
Oregon,  in  a  range  of  more  or  less  wooded  hills.  In  five  hours  wc 
looked  out  of  the  window,  and  found  oursch'es  in  a  land  where 
not  a  tree  could  be  seen, — not  even  a  bush  other  than  sage  and 
some  of  its  congeners,  and  here  and  there  a  prickly  pear.  The 
air  was  almost  crisp  in  its  dryness.  The  hills  in  the  early  morning 
looked  as  if  covered  with  a  soft  velvety  growth  ;  the  glass  showed 
thii  to  arise  from  the  closely  grown  sage-brush.  Between  the 
bushes  was  a  low  bunch-grass,  growing  out  of  an  arid  ash-colored 
soil.  Near  the  rivers  the  sands  are  absolutely  movable,  and  are 
carried  in  clouds  by  a  stiff  wind.  Yet  in  this  sandy  desert  toler- 
ably fair  crops  grow  without  irrigation.  We  saw  a  huge  rick  of 
xyc,  unthreshed,  put  up  for  fodder,  and  were  told  it  averaged  two 
and  a  half  tons  to  the  acre.    About  the  junction  of  the  Snake  and 


'):! 


;■( 


I  ' 


14 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


Columbia  rivers  a  more  uninviting  country  ran  hardly  be 
imagined,  and  vet  in  a  little  plantation  of  poplars  set  out  from  the 
sliprin  the  spri'ng  of  icSS6,  the  young  trees  were  four  to  eight  feet 
in  height,  and  of  full,  bushy  tops.-  I  measured  one  of  the  shoots 
of  thTs  season;  it  was  nearly  five  feet  in  length.  We  counted 
twenty-eight  shoots  on  one  little  tree.  We  dug  into  the  dry  sand, 
and  found  moisture  at  seven  inches.  We  ate  watermelon  from  a 
patch  said  not  to  have  been  watered  this  season.  The  melon  was 
quite  large  and  well  flavored,  but  the  meat  rather  pithy,  as  is  the 
meat  ofliU  melons  and  apples  raised  on  this  coast,  the  result 
probablv  of  abnormally  rajjid  growth. 

Another  remarkable'  feature  of  this  country  is  the  meagreness 
of  the  wheat  and  rye  straw  when  compared  to  the  amount  of 
grain  produced.  We  saw  quite  a  large  field  of  wheat  which  hail 
been  harvested.  From  the  light  stubble  we  did  not  think  over 
ten  bush.els  coukl  have  been  gathereii,  but  was  assured  the 
whole  field  of  over  30  acres  had  averaged  24.  This  is  true,  too, 
of  the  great  Walla  Walla  whe.it  country,  where  40  bushels 
are  often  threshed  from  straw  which  an  Eastern  man  wouki 
think  could  not  yield  one  fourth  of  the  amount.  7"his  fact 
causes  many  superficial  observers  passing  through  the  country 
greatlj-  to  underr.ite  the  productiveness  of  the  soil.  A  IMichigan- 
der  whom  we  met  swore  he  would  not  giv'e  one  good  farm  in  his 
State  lor  all  Oregon  anil  Washington  Territorj-  for  agiicultural 
purpo.ses.  lie  had  only  seen  the  standing  crops,  and  therefrom 
made  his  estim.ite  of  values.  All  fruit  matures  ra[)idly,  ami  is 
often  rather  tasteless.  Tiie  green  corn  is  insipid  and  the  appies 
lack  flavor.  The  pears  are  cpiite  good,  and  the  plums  and  berries 
delicious.  I  regret  to  say  there  appears  to  be  a  general  lack  of 
energy  among  the  people,  and  especially  among  the  farmers.  The 
ground  produces  without  much  work.  Stock  live  out-doors  all 
winter  and  grow  fat  on  the  grass,  which  nature  turns  into  hay 
without  being  cut.  The  farmers,  therefore,  grow  careless,  and 
have  a  general  look  of  lacking  thrift. 

We  went  to  Oregon  and  Washington  more  to  see  the  scenery 
than  to  look  at  the  people,  or  to  examine  into  the  sources  of 
wealth,  but  found  every  thing  shrouded  in  smoke.  At  Portland 
one  could  scarcely  sc^  across  the  Willamette  River,  and  the  dust 
was  nearly  half-ankle  deep.  It  required  a  compass  to  find  in  what 
direction  Mount  Mood  was  standing.  We  left  Willamette  in  ^. 
smoke  which  actually  made  our  eyes  smart,  and  from  the  park  n 
Portland  the  spires  of  the  churches  were  merely  spectral  outlines. 
Portland  is  a  fine  and  handsome  city.  Ks  business  houses  are 
well  built,  and  its  residences  comfortable-looking  and  embowered 
in  vines  and  shrubbery.  But  its  glory  seems  to  be  gone.  If  the 
rich  men  of  the  place  do  not  soon  bestir  themselves,  little  Tacoma 
and  thrifty,  pushing  Seattle  will  soon  catch  and  pass  it.  The 
Chmese  look  prosperous  and  busy.     The  balance  of  the  people 


SCENERY  OF  THE  COLUMBIA  RIVER. 


15 


seem  to  be  livini^  on  past  recollections,  and  that,  too,  though, 
according  to  population,  there  are  few  places  in  America  where 
there  is  so  much  average  we  ilrh.  The  pcop!--  want  some  life  beat 
into  them.  I  ask  their  pardon  if  I  have  reached  a  too  rapid 
opinion.  I  wonder  if  the  smoke  has  not  something  to  do  with  it. 
The  people  are  probably  cured  into  abnormal  steadiness.  We 
left  the  city  well  pleased  with  the  pleasant  people,  but  rubbing 
our  eyes  as  if  we  had  been  in  a  smoke-house.  By  the  way,  we 
determined  that  Eastern  packers  should  bring  their  pork  here  to 
be  cured.  A  house  of  wire  gauze  to  keep  the  flies  out  would  take 
in  smoke  enough  to  cure  hams  and  jerked  beef,  without  any  other 
than  that  furnished  by  the  forest  fires. 

We  found  the  lower  Columbia  River  so  involved  in  sooty  haze 
that,  when  in  the  middle  channel,  we  could  barely  see  the  two 
shores.  Ikit  as  we  approached  the  cascades  the  atmosphere  grew 
clearer,  and  after  passing  tliem  we  were  met  by  a  wind  from  up 
the  stream,  and  were  soon  in  full  enjoyment  of  the  beauty  of  this 
incomparable  river.  The  high  mountains  towered  up,  and  the 
rocks  wore  that  indescribable  purple-brown  seen  nowhere  else. 
Landscape  after  landscape  was  presented  to  our  view,  holding 
us  in  silent  rapture.  ]\[an\-  of  them  would  be  grand  if  they  were 
not  so  beautiful.  One  feels  as  he  does  when  looking  on  a  noble 
woman  with  a  madonna  face.  The  majesty  of  her  form  is  lost  in 
the  angelic  visage.  The  tints  of  the  rocks  and  precipices  are  to 
the  other  rocks  what  an  Italian  sky  is  to  other  blue  skies.  There 
was  just  enough  smoke  to  tone  down  the  distant  heights  without 
destroying  a  single  outline.  It  supplied  the  softening  effect 
which  the  mists  furnish  in  the  Tyrol.  Even  Mount  Hood 
deigned  to  show  us  his  sentinel  peak,  with  his  eternal  snows  and 
his  glaciered  slopes;  he  seemed  a  monarch,  disclaiming  all  com- 
panionship. So  spellbound  were  the  passengers  of  our  steamer 
that  they  simply  turned  orce  to  glance  at  Mount  Adam's  grand 
cone,  far  to  the'north.  We  were  satisfied  ;  we  had  seen  what  we 
came  to  see, — the  Columbia  and  Mount  Hood. 


a 


il 


CHAPTER  III. 

MORE  AliOUT  \VASIllM.l()-\— VICTORIA  AND 
\'AXCOUVER   ISLAND. 


I 


Victoria,  B.  C,  August  19,  1887. 

Two  weeks  ago  we  first  reached  this  pretty  old  town.  'V'c 
were  anxious  to  go  to  Alaska,  but  found  tlie  steamer  woi.'d  u  ■. 
leave  before  the  8th,  to  return  to-day.  liut  our  ship,  the  i<VA/.  /,: 
was  scheduled  to  leave  to-day  for  Japan.  We  might  make  A.ask.i 
and  return  in  time,  but  if  fog  should  interfere  for  one  day  we 
would  get  back  too  late.  We  were  advised  not  to  take  tlie 
chance.  We  therefore  went  ^^  Washington  Territory  and 
Oregon;  hurried  through  them  more  rapidly  than  we  could  have 
wished  ;  got  back  here,  and  found  that  for  some  reason  the  /'dta- 
via  would  not  be  here,  but  that  the  Piirt/iin  woukl  take  her  place 
a  week  later.  A  whole  week  would,  therefore,  be  on  our  hands, 
and  we  were  out  of  those  regions  where  we  could  make  profitable 
excursions. 

This  morning  when  we  went  ilown  to  breakfast  there  sat  some 
friends  who  had  gone  over  the  Can.ulian  Pacific  with  us.  They 
had  been  to  Alaska,  and  did  not  have  a  single  rainy  or  foggy 
day.  The  trip  before,  the  steamer  had  both  rain  ar.d  fog.  It 
ought  to  have  been  our  good-fortune  to  have  been  aboard,  and  to 
have  enjoyed  what  we  so  much  desired, — this  fine  excursion 
towards  Behring  Strait.     Rut.  sad  to  admit,  my  star  had  set. 

By  the  way,  it  will  be  little  singul.ir  if  we  .should  sail  across  the 
miglit}'  Pacific  on  the  Partliia.  Fourteen  years  ago  last  May  I 
stood  at  die  Cunard  docks,  in  Xcw  York,  and  watched  this  ship 
sail  out  with  those  who  were  dearest  of  .dl  on  earth  to  me, —  my 
wife  and  children.  They  had  taken  a  position  where  I  could  see 
them  as  long  as  possible.  We  waved  our  handkerchiefs  until 
they  could  no  longer  be  seen.  But  still  I  watched  until  the  good 
ship  was  lost  in  the  Narrows.  I  clutched  a  pile,  which  stood 
above  the  pier,  and  in  nervous  distress  tried  to  shake  it.  There 
disappeared  nearly  all  that  made  life  dear  to  me.  Between  them 
and  eternity  was  a  single  plate.  Would  I  ever  see  them  again  ? 
Would  _^they  ever  return  to  their  native  land?  W!i  could 
answer?  As  I  stood  stnu'ning  my  red  eyes — I  had  r  /iied  a 
tear  while  with  my  dear  ones,  but  when  they  were  L-'or.  .  1  broke 
down  and  wept,  not  as  a  woman,  but  asa  strong  man  '.an  »-ecp,  t»ars 
which  seem  to  be  wrung  from  the  very  soul -a  rough  man  passed 

16 


31 


m 


VANCOUVER  ISLAND. 


17 


% 


me.  He  saw  my  distress.  Touching  his  hnt,  he  said,  in  gentle 
tones  which  I  can  never  cease  to  thank  him  for:  "You  have 
friends  on  the  Parthia,  have  n't  you  ?  "  "Yes,  my  wife  and  all 
my  children."  "  Don't  be  aggrieved,  sir  ;  they  will  reach  t'other 
side.  She  is  a  stanch  ship."  And  the  good  stevedore's  eyes  were 
moist  with  real  sympathy.  The  ship  tvas  stanch  ;  she  bore 
my  loved  ones  to  "t'other  side."  But  one  of  them,  and  the 
dearest,  is  still  on  the  other  side.  She  sleeps  in  her  far-off  "  God's 
acre."  Her  spirit  took  its  last  flight  in  1876  among  strangers; 
warm-hearted  Germans  shed  tears  on  her  grave,  and  the  eternal 
liills  of  Thuringia  look  down  upon  her  German  resting-place.  In 
1874,  I  went  over  myself  on  the  Parthia  and  spent  the  summer 
with  my  family,  and  rekindled  the  friendship  which  many  years 
before,  as  a  young  man,  I  had  formed  for  the  German  people. 
Now  I  am  on  my  way  to  Germany,  to  bring  back  my  wife's 
remains,  to  lay  them  by  the  side  of  her  little  ones  who  sleep  in 
Chicago's  Gr:iC''lantl.  I  go  with  the  sun  and  the  Parthia  steps  in 
to  take  tlie  place  of  the  .-.hip'which  was  to  have  carried  me  nearly 
five  thousand  miles  on  my  ji.uiiiey.  I  hail  her  as  an  omen  of 
good  }-et  to  come.  She  is  expected  to-morrow,  and  we  hope  to 
sail  on  her  on  the  25tii.  Vv'c  will  lose  a  week  from  the  time  I  hopi.' 
to  spend  in  the  land  of  the  Mikado.  This  week  cannot  be  made 
up,  for  climatic  reasons  may  force  us  onward  toward  India  before 
fully  doing  Japan. 

In  a  Former  letter  from  here  I  said  nothing  of  this  pretty 
place.  Unlike  others  we  have  seen  on  the  coast,  it  seems  built  to 
stay.  The  bulk  of  the  houses  in  the  main  town  are  of  brick  and 
have  a  solid  outlook.  The  streets  are  broad  and  well  laid  out  and 
paved,  the  road-beds  being  a  heavy  macadam  of  trap-rock,  steam- 
rolled. 

The  worthy  mayor,  Mr.  h\Ml,  drove  us  around  yesterday,  point- 
ing out  the  points  of  interest.  This  island,  V'ancouver,  is  about  300 
miles  long  by  75  to  100  miles  broad  in  the  wider  parts.  It  is  moun- 
tainous, and  not  adapted  to  a  high  cultivation,  but  has  a  soil  which 
will,  when  the  great  empire  of  the  Pacific  shall  be  in  its  glory, 
furnish  food  for  a  lanTo  population.  It  is  throughout  well  wo'otled, 
not  with  the  vast-siyed  timber  of  the  main-land,  but  with  trees 
that  would  be  considered  fine  in  Michigan.  It  lias  extensive 
coal-fields,  and  yesterday  I  saw  the  man  who  from  poverty  actually 
stumbled  into  a  hugi;  fortune.  His  foot  was  caught  in  the  root 
of  a  fallen  tree,  causing  him  to  fall  ;  looking  down  he  saw  a  piece 
of  coal,  and  thus  discowred  the  fields  ofNanaimo.  The  lucky 
man,  now  a  millionaire,  with  the  aid  of  California  capital  has 
built  a  railroad  from  this  place,  some  70  odd  miles  long,  and  the 
town  of  Nanaimo  is  a  flourishing  place  of  over  3,000  people.  The 
road  is  pushing  still  on  and,  I  think,  has  reached  Comox,  60  miles 
farther  north.  How  few  people  in  the  eastern  States  or  in  Eng- 
land have  any  conception  of  this  Pacific  country  of  the  northwest ! 


■',? 


i8 


A  RACE  I  VT/f  THE  SUN. 


The  cunning  Hudson  Bay  Company  gave  out  to  the  world  the 
impression  that  the  counlr)  from  Lake  Superior  to  the  mouth  of 
th.'  Cohunbia  and  thence  to  the  far-off  north  was  the  home  of  the 
fur-bearing  animals,  and  that  only  the  trappers  could  gain  a  living 
in  it.  This  impression  hastakcnsuch  a  deep  hold,  that  those  that 
visit  it  are  supposed  to  be  visionary  dreamers,  or  worse,  when  they 
tell  the  world  that  this  vast  country  is  admirably  fitted  for  the 
home  of  man.  A  soil  which  produces  of  wheat  from  30  to  45 
bushels  per  acre;  oats  from  50  to  ;o  and  potatoes  from  125  to 
2;-  '■  si'  Is  ;  this,  too,  on  the  better  lands  even  of  this  island.  On 
the  ind  oats  have  threshed  out,  just  within  the  United  States 

line,  I  00  bushels,  and  I  heard  of  potatoes  running  to  700. 

Last  week  we  stopped  at  the  celebrated  hop  helds  of  I'ayallup, 
in  Washington  Territory,  and  saw  a  field  which  had  given  4,000 
pounds  per  acre,  and  1.600  pounds  is  the  average  yield  of  some 
6.000  and  more  acres.  The  rich  low  grounds  on  White  River,  The 
P)'allup,  and  several  other  streams  average  over  2,000  pounds  jier 
acre.  We  looked  at  th.c  poles  upon  which  were  \ast  crowns  of  white 
hops,  as  yet  not  half  grown,  but  as  large  as  ripe  ones  grown  in  the 
east,  and  I  could  not  help  feeling  there  was  a  vast  amount  of 
personal  liberty  flowering  about  us,  a.ul  .hat  a  regular  and  large 
hop-growth  in  Washington  Territory  would  help  to  drive  out 
adulterated  beer  and  alcoholic  poison  and  prove  the  solution  of 
the  temperance  question.  Pure  and  cheap  beer  will  drive  "  rot- 
gut "  out  of  the  world.  The  philanthropist  will  then  cease  to  be 
a  prohibitionist,  and  the  question  will  be  taken  out  of  politics. 
The  hop-growth  of  the  Territory  is  simply  in  its  infancy.  We  talked 
with  a  man — John  Meeker — who,  a-foot,  carried  the  first  20 
roots  into  the  liop  region  on  his  shoulders,  when  railroads  were 
scarcely  dreamed  of  and  t^lic  stage-coach  only  tried  to  go  to  the 
gold  diggings.  Meeker's  father  carried  in  a  single  bag  the  first 
crop  of  hops  to  a  local  market  ;  that  was  done  only  20  odd 
years  ago.  Now  the  yield  for  this  year  will  be  about  50,000 
bales,  each  bale  weighing  180  pounds  or  thereabout. 

Next  month  the  harvest  begins,  and  then  from  the  far  north, 
nearly  as  far  as  Alaska,  and  from  over  the  mountains  will  come 
Lulians  by  the  thousands  to  do  the  gathering  and  to  earn  from  $2 
to  $3  a  day.  The  squaws  are  the  best  pickers.  At  Seattle  and 
Tacoma  their  camps  are  already  to  be  seen,  and  Siwash  (Indian) 
canoes  dot  the  whole  of  Puget  Sound,  bearing  their  loads  of  six 
to  a  dozen  Indians,  with  prows  turned  toward  the  hop  lands.  We 
certainly  saw  on  the  wacer  or  drawn  upon  the  shore  several 
hundreds  of  the  huge  dug-outs,  some  of  them  nearly  as  big  as  the 
war-galley  of  Homer's  heroes.  It  is  said  to  be  worth  a  trip  across 
the  country  to  see  the  great  pic-nic  of  the  pickers  in  the  months  of 
September  and  October.  The  red  pickers  numbc-  .several  thou- 
sands. They  pitch  their  "  shaks,"  or  tents,  in  the  streets,  along 
the  banks  of  the  streams,  and  up  against  the  railroad  tracks,  and 
gather  by  day  and  laugh  and  gamble  by  night. 


•i^ 


world  the 
mouth  of 
mc  of  tlic 
in  a  living 
hose  that 
,hcn  they 
xl  for  the 
30  to  45 
im  125  to 
land.  On 
:ed  States 

0  700. 
I'ayallup, 
k'cn  4,000 

1  of  some 
!.ivcr,  The 
)un(ls  i)cr 
s  of  white 
iwn  in  the 
mount  of 
ami  lart^e 
:lrive  out 
:ilution  of 
rive  "  rot- 
-■asc  to  be 
f  politics. 
iVe  talked 
:  first  20 
)ads  were 
go  to  the 
[  the  first 
Y  20  odd 
It     50,000 

far  north, 
will  come 
n  from  $2 
cattle  and 
li  (liulian) 
ads  of  six 
ands.  We 
'e  several 
big  as  the 
:rip  across 
months  of 
eral  thou- 
:ets,  along 
racks,  and 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SOIL  AM)  CLIMATK  OF  XORl'l  IWKSlKkX  rACIFU;  >I.()|'i:  — \K' 1 ORIA 
AM)  ESQUIMAUI.r— CKEEN  RIVER— HOT  Sl'KINllS    AM)   TROi:  T. 

Victoria,  B.  C,  August  21,  1887. 

There  is  the  home  of  a  great  future  population  in  the  north- 
west ;  I  think  I  c.in  see  into  the  future,  guided  by  what  history 
tells  of  the  dense  populations  of  the  far  past,  that  there  will  some 
day  be  a  great  people  in  the  cool  northwest — greater  than  in  hot 
and  dry  California  or  in  the  more  inhospitable  regions  just  east  of 
the  Rockies.  Here  in  the  vallejs  and  on  the  bulk  of  the  plains  is 
an  inexhaustible  soil,  which  yields  when  irrigated,  and  in  many 
parts  without  irrigation,  returns  unknown  in  any  other  section  of 
the  civilized  world.  This  soil  is  practicall}'  ine.xhaustible  ;  the 
loam  of  the  valleys  is  often  over  100  feet  deep  ;  the  earth  of  the 
l)l.iins  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  volcanic  ash,  rich  in  all  the  ingreilients 
which  make  the  kernels  of  wheat  and  other  cereals.  On  the 
railro.id  embankments  one  frequently  sees  stools  of  oats  as  rich 
and  green  as  is  grown  on  an  old  stable  yard.  At  (ireen  River  hot 
springs,  growing  on  the  road-bed,  which  resemblctl  ashy  clay, 
we  counteil  226  berry-pods  of  oats  on  a  stool  from  a  single  seed, 
:ind  18  stalks  from  a  timothy  stool.  The  bank  was  eight 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  land,  and  the  soil  composing  the  road- 
bed was  taken  from  a  deep  cut.  There  are  millions  of  acres  easily 
to  be  irrigated.  The  mountains  will  furnish  wood  and  timber  for  all 
times,  and  in  their  bowels  are  all  kinds  of  minerals.  In  the  vast 
depths  of  the  sounds,  bays,  and  inlets  are  the  resorts  of  the  count- 
less finn)-  tribes  of  earth's  greatest  ocean.  I  lere  the  fish  come  in 
from  the  sea  in  endless  profusion,  and  all  of  them  thoroughly 
fitted  for  food  for  man. 

Harbors  abound,  capable  of  holding  the  fleets  of  the  world. 
And  all  along  the  coast  from  Fuca  Strait  up  to  Alaska  are  fiords 
of  vast  depth  running  parallel  to  the  ocean  and  constantlx-  open- 
ing into  it  by  safe  inlets,  along  which  cheap  steamers  can  go  from 
])oint  to  point  without  the  danger  of  ever  encountering  a  storm 
which  an  Ohio  craft  may  not  meet.  The  Indian  of  Alaska  comes 
to  Tacoma  in  his  dug-out  canoe  with  his  whole  family,  and  with 
as  little  risk  as  one  could  run  on  a  small  river.  The  largest  shi  ) 
can  steam  in  these  inlets  and  salt  rivers,  without  ever  hitting  upoi. 
an  unseen  danger.    There  are  no  shoals  and  no  hidden  rocks;  and 

19 


jg  A  MACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 

1  vessel  can  lay  its   broadside  sheer  up  against   the  shore  any- 
whe^:?  with  no  other  danger  than  that  of  abras.on  when  hfted  or 

'"^^ft.  whole  northwest  is  of   so  grand  a  character 
that  eve'y  thing  east  of  the  Rockies  is  comparatively  tame.     I  do 
S  mean  to  detract  from  the  beauties  of  our  own  sect.on.      V  o 
here  IS  not  a  hill  anywhere  which  does   not  furmsh.  to  my  eye,  a 
ine  of  beauty.    There  is  not  a  flowery  prana-  or  a  wavmg  field  of 
ain  which  does  not  give  delight.  There  .s  not  a  gurglmg  r.vule 
Tvhi  h  does  not  sing  in  tones  far  sweeter  than  those  of  the  most 
!'ifted  diva.      But  here  there  is  more  of  >t  all.  and  on   so  stupen- 
dous a  scale,  that  ours  are  to  them  what  .a  parlor  melody  is  to  a 
grand  chorus,  or  the  eolia  singing  among  the  pme  needles  is  to  the 
craiul  artillery  of  the  storm. 

I  look  out  of  the  window  every  few  moments  from  m> 
,viitin-  table,  and  the  low  mountains  of  this  island  present  to  the 
eves  rPs  f^ne  outlines  and  as  green  and  beautiful  foothills  as  one 
can' find  anvwhere  in  the  AUeghanies ;  and  yet  these  mountains 
are  bi>t  pi<n'nies  to  those  one  could  see  to  the  south  .n-  west  ol  tins 
hotel  if  the  smoke  would  but  blow  away.  1  o  see  the  gr.indeur 
of  this  region  one  should  come  before  July  or  after  September. 
Smoke  is^lpt  to  be  the  rule  in  Jul)-,  August,  and  September. 
Even  in  these  months  the  iiaze  rather  softens  the  near  landscape 
but  it  ;  'lies  the  mighty  background. 

This  place  ought  to  and  ultimately  will  be  to  this  coast  what 
Newport  is  to  the  east.  The  rocks  along  the  seashore  resemble 
tho;-c  at  the  plutocrat's  heaven  in  Rhode  Island,  only  they  are 
more  numerous,  and  the  bays  and  inlets  would  be  the  delight  of 
the  lover  of  the  oar.  Some  of  the  latter  are  little  salt  rivers  along 
which  the  rising  or  falling  tide  sends  a  current  of  two  or  three 
miles  an  hour  ;  their  shores  are  covered  with  beautiful  trees,  green 
firs,  spruces,  and  elders,  and  the  red-barked  a'rbutis  bending  its 
gnarly  branches  among  the  green  foliage,  as  smooth  as  if  rubbed 
down  with  sand  paper  and  as  red  as  if  painted  by  the  brush.  The 
wild  roses  grow  as  large  as  lilac  bushes  and  often  cover  w^hole 
acres.  The  royal  navy  yard  of  Esquimault  looks  as  if  its  site  had 
been  selected  as  much  to  please  the  eye  as  for  its  wonderful  road- 
stead. This  roadstead  resembles  a  beautiful  lake  of  a  coui)le  of 
thousand  acres,  almost  circular,  surrounded  by  wooded  hills  and 
rounded  trapite  rocks,  with  an  inlet  of  only  a  few  hundred  feet, 
and  opening  from  it  a  few  small  inferior  arms.  It  is  deep  enough 
to  receive  the  largest  iron-clad. 

We  were  most  kindly  shown  all  of  the  store-rooms,  the  torpedo 
rooms — in  fact  every  thing  which  can  be  possibly  exhibited  to  a 
stranger.  To  Mr.  Fell  wi;  were  indebted  for  this  courtesy.  The 
dr\'-dock  is  a  huge  one,  in  which  the  iron-clad  Caroline  was  Ij'ing 
to  be  cleaned.  She  filled  but  a  small  portion  of  the  huge  dock.  It 
is  built  of  solid  masonr)-  and  shows  that  the  home  government 


ore  any- 
lifted  or 

:li;iracter 
ic.  I  <.lo 
)n.  ]""or 
iiy  eye,  a 
t^  field  of 
il  rivulet 
the  most 
)  stupen- 
ly  is  to  a 
s  is  to  the 

from  my 
:nt  to  the 
lis  as  one 
louiitaiiis 
est  of  this 
•grandeur 
.'pteinber. 
jptember. 
landscape 

)ast    what 
resemble 
they  are 
lelit^ht    of 
;ers  al(in;4 
)  or  three 
ees,  <;'reen 
eiuliiii;-  its 
if   rubbed 
rush.  The 
vcr  whole 
s  site  had 
rrful  road- 
couple   of 
hills  and 
ulretl  feet, 
ep  enoui^h 

le  torpedo 
bited  to  a 
esy.  The 
was  lyintj; 
c  dock.  It 
■)vernment 


5 
O 

u 


O 

o 

z 


>• 


I 

i 


d 


■   ,t 


;!, 


A  REMARKABLE  CLIMATE. 


n 


does  not  intend,  without  a  struggle,  to  abandon  liritish  America. 
The  Cormorant  has  just  come  out  of  dock.  And  the  sullen, 
dangerous-looking  iron-clad  Trhiviph,  from  which  floats  the 
admiral's  pennant,  lies  close  by.  We  rowed  out  to  see  this  great 
ship.  She  is  now  a  fifth-rate,  but  a  few  years  ago  was  considered 
an  invulnerable  monster.  She  has  in  her  waist  a  sort  of  fort  in 
which  are  14  huge  guns,  which  could  soon  destroy  any  of  our 
fortifications,  and  her  deck  has  long,  small,  many  bullet-throwing 
guns  to  rake  an  enemy's  deck,  some  of  them  carrying  a  rifle-ball 
3,000  yards.  We  were  politely  received  and  entertained  in  the 
ward-rc)om  by  the  captain  and  several  lieutenants.  This  is  the 
head-cjuartcrs  of  the  Pacific  squadron,  and  the  admiral,  who 
cruises  from  Alaska  to  Cape  Horn,  appreciates  the  variety  of 
climates  his  cruising  ground  affords  him.  He  winters  about  the 
equator  and  enjoys  this  glorious  climate  in  the  summer.  Heads 
of  elk,  mountain  sheep,  goats  and  deer  surround  his  cabin, 
and  rugs  of  many  kinds  of  skins,  the  trophies  of  his  own  hunting 
excursions,  prove  him  to  be  a  hunter  of  the  mountains  as  well  as 
of  the  seas,  and  that  he  is  as  ready  to  bring  down  the  denizen  of 
the  woods  as  his  calling  makes  him  to  destroy  man. 

The  dock  here  has  cost  over  a  million,  and  the  ships  and  stores 
of  all  kinds  in  this  navy  yard  cost  many  millions.  Will  this  ever 
be  ?  Is  man  by  his  nature  so  pugnacious  that  these  preparations 
for  killing  must  ever  exist?  Here  in  the  torpedo  house  was  a 
torpedo  boat,  and  another  in  the  harbor,  ready  to  destroy  the 
unwary.  Each  fish-looking  torpedo,  of  which  there  are  many,  cost 
about  82,500.  This  is  but  one  of  the  many  establishments  be- 
longing to  England,  and  every  nation  has  its  own.  And  all  for 
the  purpose  of  destroying  him  who  we  are  told  was  made  in  God's 
image  I  What  is,  is  right.  Man  was  made  by  his  Maker  and  not 
by  the  devil.  There  is  but  one  God,  and  the  only  devil  lives  in 
the  hearts  of  his  creatures.  He  intended  it,  and  it  is  right.  If 
man  did  not  kill  his  fellow-men  he  would  so  increase  and  multiply 
that  he  would  after  a  while  do  as  the  fishes  of  the  sea — eat  each 
other.  So  he  is  permitted  to  kill  in  the  name  of  liberty  and  of 
religion  to  keep  him  from  killing  for  meat. 

The  climate  of  this  great  region  is  to  an  eastern  man  even  more 
remarkable  than  its  productions.  The  thermometer  rarely  falls 
much  below  the  freezing-point  at  Victoria,  or  anywhere  west  of 
the  Cascade  range,  and  while  tlie  days  are  warm  in  summer  they 
are  never  hot,  and  so  far  at  night  we  have  required  at  least  two 
blankets  throughout  this  month.  Every  cottage  is  covered  with 
honeysuckle  or  some  climbing  plant,  which  in  the  Chicago  parks 
have  to  be  laid  and  covered  in  winter.  And  the  ivy  seems  as 
flourishing  as  at  Washington  City.  There  it  is  sometimes  killed 
by  frost.  Here  it  never  is.  A  gentleman  told  me  that  at  Seattle 
he  had  gathered  out-door  roses  during  every  month  of  the  year. 
The  strawberry  blooms  early  in  April  and  the  wild  fruit  is  nearly 


•  it' 


<1 


n 


1 


M> 


22 


y^  A'/^c^  ;r/7v/  rj//-:  srjv. 


as  large  as  our  ordinary  cultivated  ones.  Along  the  coast  and  up 
to  the  heights  of  ilu;  Cascades  in  Washington  Territory  and  the 
Selkirks  in  Ikitish  L'tlunibia  the  air  is  full  of  humidity,  except 
during  the  summer  months.  Kast  of  the  Cascades  it  is  generally 
very  dry.  When  we  were  or.  the  Columbia  at  the  mouth  of  Snake 
River,  Iwasama/.etl  to  find  the  thermometer,  about  3  o'clock,  over 
100  in  the  shade.  Tiie  air  was  so  drj-  and  free  from  all  sul- 
triness, that  I  did  not  feel  the  heat  as  being  oppressive. 

On  the  treeless  plains,  and  among  the  whe.it  fields  of  Walla 
Walla,  it  rarely  ever  rains  in  summer,  is  never  damp,  yet.  sjtrange 
to  tell,  the  peojjle  suffer  greatlv  from  rheumatisin.  Judge  Lang- 
ford,  whom  we  met  at  the  Green  River  hot  springs,  tUclared  he 
considerctl  his  locality  (Walla  Walla)  to  be  the  natural  home  of 
the  tiread  disease.  The  summer  liryness  explains,  probably,  why 
we  saw  no  mos(|uitoes  in  Oregon  or  Wasiiington  TL-rritory,  while 
all  the  way  from  the  eastern  entrance  to  the  Rockies,  on  the 
Canadian  Pacific,  clear  down  to  the  co.ist,  the  pests  kept  us  fight- 
ing every  evening,  when  the  train  would  stop  for  a  few  moments. 
We  are  now  thinking  of  going  back  upon  the  road  to  spend  the 
time  until  the  25th.  A  gentleman  wlm  has  just  returned  from 
Harrison  hot  springs,  about  Co  miles  west  of  Vancouver,  sa}'s 
the  mos(]uito  has  been  terrible.  I'^xen  at  Glacier  House,  in  the 
Selkirks,  nearly  5,000  feet  above  the  sea  and  right  under  the 
huge  glacier,  some  of  our  passengers  were  deterred  from  .stopi)ing 
overnight,  because  they  were  so  bad.  and  these  were,  as  j-ct, 
no  bars  in  the  house.  And  yet  we  fished  in  Washington  Terri- 
tory along  several  streams,  some  of  them  but  a  little  above  the 
sea  level,  anil  at  hot  springs,  1,400  feet  up,  and  did  not  once  .sec 
enough  mosquitoes  to  anno)'  u^ 


It  will  be.  or  ought   to   be.  grateful    information   to 


our 


tjood 


ladies  who  battle  so  hard  against  the  little  pests  of  the  bed,  and 
think  they  are  the  representatives  of  slovenliness,  to  learn  that, 
in  the  l^Iue  IMountains.  east  of  Walla  Walla,  if  one  leans  against 
a  fir  tree  for  a  little  while  he  will  get  the  brutes  on  him.  '  And 
this  in  the  clear,  pure  air  of  the  pine  woods. 

We  spent  two  days  at  the  hot  springs  on  Green  River,  in 
W^ashington  Territory.  The  water  issues  from  a  narrow  fissure, 
or,  rather,  seam,  in  the  rock,  which  is  a  sort  of  trap.  The  seam 
runs  at  an  angle,  perhaps  of  25  degrees,  and  for  several  humlred 
feet  the  hot  water  runs  out  in  small  streams,  and  near  the  sani- 
tarium is  sufficiently  large  to  furnish  enough  for  50  to  100  bath- 
tubs, and  is  elevated  on  the  right  bank  of  the  rapid  river  suffi- 
ciently to  give  a  good  fall  to  the  hotel  on  the  opposite  side  on  a 
bottom  stretch,  which  is  covered  by  monster  trees.  These  have 
been  killed  by  fire  and  are  now  by  slow  tiegrees  being  cleared  up. 
It  cost  Si 50  V^^'  •■^cie  to  clean  up  one  of  tliese  forests  to  fit  it  for 
cultivation  or  for  grass. 

I   said  the   burning  of  the   forests  absolutely  burnt   the  soil. 


r  i 


NORTHERN  PACIFIC   SWITCHBACK. 


23 


t  and  up 
and  the 
,  except 
ciierally 
^[  Snake 
ock, over 
all  sul- 

if  Walla 

;jtran;j;e 

:jc  Lan^- 

lared  he 

lonie  of 

)ly,  why 

ry,  while 

s.  on  the 

:  us  fit^ht- 

nonients. 

pend  the 

lied  from 

\er,  saj's 

;e,  in  the 

nder  tlie 

slojjpinj^" 

[,    as    yet, 

ow   Terri- 

d)o\e  the 

once  see 

our  <^ooil 
bed,  and 
jarn  that, 
ns  against 
im. 


And 


Kivcr,  in 
\v  fissure. 
The  seam 
1  hundred 

the  sani- 

100  bath- 
•iver  sufifi- 

side  on  a 
hese  have 
:learcd  up. 
o  fit  it  for 

t   tlie  soil. 


fiiKlni!^  we 
and  that  below  it   was   raining. 


This  statement  requires  a  supplemental  one.  The  first  burning 
only  kills  the  trees.  It  is  the  second  burning  or  clearing  fire 
which  consumes  the  roots  and  soil.  The  fir  and  pine,  as  well  as 
the  cedar,  send  out  roots  immediately  under  the  surface.  These, 
a  year  or  so  after  being  killed,  burn  like  peat  earth,  and  in  the 
clearing  fire  the  interlaced  roots,  and  apparently  the  whole  loamy 
soil  is  turned  to  ash.  If  the  projjrietors  of  these  hot  springs  had 
capital  they  would  soon  make  the  place  a  favorite  resort  for  those 
seeking  health  and  pleasure.  Hundreds  of  invalids  now  flock  to 
it,  and,  I  was  told  by  themselves,  to  their  very  great  benefit. 
We  certainly  enjoyed  ourselves  much,  with  the  baths,  the  simple 
fare,  and  the  trout  fishing  in  the  rapid  river. 

The  place  is  a  few  miles  below  the  celebrated  switch-back  of 
the  Xorthern  Pacific,  which  here  plunges  over  the  Cascade 
Mountains  by  a  succession  of  switches  running  zig-zag  back  and 
forth  at  a  dizzy  height  among  the  clouds. 

Johnny  called  my  attention,  while  going  over  this   j)art  of  the 
ro.ul  to  the  tlense   fog,  ami  was  (juite  amazed  when 
were  running  through  a  clout 

The  zig-zag  system  of  switch-road  is  a  tem])orary  makeshift, 
costing  some  §300,000  to  hold  the  land  grant,  while  a  great 
tunnel  is  being  bored.  When  finished  it  will  be  the  next  long- 
est one  in  America.  It  looks  startling  to  sec  our  huge  locomo- 
tive— weighing,  with  tender,  104  tons — puffing  and  blowing  far 
above  us  at  the  head  of  our  train,  while  below  another  was  tug- 
j,'iig  and  j)ushing.  In  a  little  while  this  would  be  changed,  our 
own  engine  wouKl  be  pushing  us,  while  behind  the  other  mon- 
ster would  be  pulling.  We  C(ndd  but  feel  ;  (lOil  help  us  if  one  of 
the  giants  should  lose  eitlur  wind  or  muscle,  for  then  we  would 
soon  dash  down  into  eternity. 

This  is  a  fine  pass  for  the  tourist  to  go  over  and  affords  a 
delightful  sensation.  It  will  be  lost  when  the  safer  tunnel  shall 
pierce  the  mountain,  and  thus  save  this,  to  me,  agreeable,  if  dan- 
gerous trip.  The  Green  River  is  splendid  fishing  ground,  imd 
one  can  soon  fill  a  basket,  some  of  the  beauties  weigh'ii.;  several 
pounds.  They  are  caught  of  all  lengths,  from  four  o;  1  •  inches 
up  to  two  feet.  We  were  quite  surprised  to  find  these  entirely 
different  from  the  bnwk  trout  of  the  east.  It  is  rather  a  small, 
dwarfed  salmon,  is  flatter,  and  lacks  the  huge  mouth  of  our 
trout,  and  also  lacks  the  thin,  transparent  cartilage,  which  makes 
the  mouth  of  those  of  a  New  I^ngland  brook.  A  trout  in  the 
east  can  pretty  nearly  swallow  a  fish  of  its  own  size.  Not  so 
here.  Nor  have  these  the  delicious  flavor  which  I  thought,  as  a 
young  angler,  made  this  fish  the  height  of  good  living. 

To-night  we  shall  steam  over  to  Vancouver;  it  takes  eight 
hours.  Thence  we  will  take  a  run  up  the  road,  until  the  arrival 
of  the  Partliia,  before  we  again  start  on  our  race  with  the  sun. 


I 


CMAPTKR  V. 

A  RUN  HACK  INTO  THE  SKI.KIKKS  ON  A  LOCOMOTIVK— (ll.AClKKS 

AND  AVALANIIIKS— SIAMKSK    I'KINCKS— SCKNKK V   AT 

CI.ACIKK  IIOI'SK. 

Vancouro;  //.  C,  Aiii^usi  27,  1887. 

My  letters  are  manifold  copies  of  my  journal,  made  as  I  write 
my  ideas,  which  are  formed  hastily  in  luirrying  from  place  to 
place.  I  must  not  be  held  as  to  the  accuracy  of  some  o'  my 
statements,  nor  as  to  the  duration  of  impressions  made  up-  ly 
mind  by  what  I  see  or  hear. 

In  my  last  I  stated  that  my  star  had  set,  and  I  was  no  n-.^er 
lucky,  because  I  had  lost  my  trip  to  Alaska.  V>\\i  I  picked  up 
my  star  aj^ain.  On  the  2 1st  we  left  Victoria  for  this  place,  to 
find  what  the  Canadian  Pacific  people  would  do  with  us  until  the 
Partltia  should  sail,  and  also  to  try  to  find  our  letters,  which  we 
were  sure  good  friends  at  home  had  written  us,  but  none  of  which 
had  been  forwanled.  Letters  were  found,  and  Mr.  Van  Home, 
the  soul  of  this  j^reat  continental  road,  who  happened  to  be  just 
arrived,  i^ave  us  transportation  to  the  heart  of  the  Selkirks,  420 
miles  back,  at  Glacier  House.  VVc  abandoned  our  fi;,hing  excur- 
sion to  Harrison  hot  springs,  and  boarded  the  train  for  a  longer 
visit  to  the  great  glaciers.  We  were  handsomely  entertained 
aboard  the  private  car  of  Messrs.  Edwin  Walker,  of  Chicago,  and 
Easton,  of  La  Crosse,  who  were  returning,  with  their  families, 
from  Alaska,  and  are  all  full  of  its  glories.  They  ruide  us  full  of 
substantial  good  things,  while  proving  that  Seward  was  his  coun- 
try's benefactor  when  he  gave  §7,000,000  for  the  northwest  cor- 
ner of  this  continent.  The  mountains  along  the  Frazer  River 
are  now  absolutely  shrouded  in  smoke,  and  we  all  congratulated 
ourselves  that  we  had  come  down  the  great  canyon  over  three 
weeks  before,  when  it  was  not  so  dense.  We  coi'id  now  scarcely 
see  the  higher  part  of  the  foothills,  less  than  a  n.ile  away.  The 
upper  ranges  were  covered  and  unseen.  But  tne  gorges  of 
the  river  were  as  grand  as  ever.  We  passed  through  the  Gold 
range  and  entered  well  into  the  .Selkirks  before  the  pall  was 
lifted. 

From  Rivalstoke,  on  the  Columbia,  I  rode  on  the  locomotive 
with  jolly  Billy  Barnfather.  May  his  face  never  be  less  round. 
A  few  good  Havanas  made  him  as  good  a  fellow  as  ever  strode 
an  iron  horse.     A  ride  on  a  locomotive  has  to  me  always  a  fasci- 


.   f 


RIDE  ON  A  LOCOMOTIVE. 


H 


,  1887. 

i  I  write 
place  to 
le  o''  my 

I  p.         \y 


nation.  Rut  in  a  t,'nind  mountain  country,  around  countless 
curves,  over  lofty  trestles,  upon  the  ragged  edge  of  fearful  preci- 
pices,  and  over  deep  gorges  -such  a  ride  is  really  glorious.  We 
had  to  climb  up  2,700  feet  in  about  30  miles.  Our  horse,  with 
his  tender,  weighed  nearly  lOO  tons.  How  he  would  puff  and 
snort,  and  sometimes  almost  plunge,  to  drag  after  him  Ids 
mighty  load.  One  riding  upon  him,  after  a  while,  almost  loses  his 
own  identity,  and  becomes  a  part  of  the  huge  monster.  Look- 
ing forward  upon  the  rails,  merely  silvery  lines  drawn  upon  the 
road-bed,  we  forget  these  are  any  tling  more  than  marks  to 
guide  us  on  our  way.  The  locomotive  bends  to  the  right  or  left 
like  a  drunken  man  as  we  rush  along  the  curves,  and  one  feels  like 
a  drunken  man,  who  mil  walk  straight  if  he  wishes,  but  finds  it 
pleasant  to  totter  and  zig-zag,  so  it  be  done  not  from  necessity 
but  from  agreeable  volition.  The  rails  ar^  but  lines  to  guide,  not 
to  control.  And  so,  on  we  rush,  never  ([uitting  the  line  a  hair's- 
breadth.  Yonder  is  a  monster  barrier  of  rock  right  in  our  track. 
Who  "s  afraid  ?  At  it  we  rush  headlong,  and  bore  a  tunnel 
through  the  mass.  See  yon  foaming  stream,  far  down  in  a  dark 
gorge.  We  rush  across  it  on  a  trestle  as  light  as  gauze-work,  and 
never  tremble  because  of  its  being  so  fragile.  How  we  careen 
and  climb  I  We  reach  a  little  level  track.  We  spin  along  it  with 
a  loud  scream,  and  stop  at  a  station  as  still  as  if  we  never  knew  a 
motion.  Miners  and  .oad-workers  gather  about  our  side,  and, 
while  they  admire,  we  are  as  quiet  as  a  lamb,  conscious  of  our 
power.  At  last  we  reach  the  presence  of  eternal  ice.  We  have 
been  three  hinirs  climbing  a  little  over  40  miles.  At  Glacier 
House  we  bid  adieu  to  our  friends  in  the  private  car,  and,  although 
dead  .igainst  monopol)-,  1  cannot  help  feeling  that  it  is  not  a  bad 
thing  to  be  a  railroad  magnate,  and  rather  doubt  if  I  would  burn 
my  jialace  on  wheels  if  one  should  ever  happen  to  be  given  me. 

Alaska  may  be  grand,  but  when  sitting  on  the  piazza  of  the 
beautiful  little  chalet  hotel,  called  the  Glacier  House,  and  watch- 
ing the  sun  climbing  the  mountains  a. id  rose-tinting  the  snows 
which  lie  like  a  light  mantle  about  these  loft)'  heights,  and  look- 
ing u|)  at  the  great  glacier  with  its  crevices  of  delicate  green,  and 
the  gray  peaks  of  cc^ld  rock  which  pierce  the  fjlue  vault  of  heaven, 
and  hearing  the  mighty  roar  of  the  snow-white  cataract,  which 
tumbles  over  1,000  feet  down  the  precipitous  foothills  a  few 
hundred  yards  before  me  ;  when  I  sit  in  this  wonderful  val- 
ley, nested  down  among  huge  mountains  on  every  side,  no 
outlet  to  be  seen,  the  lower  mountain  slopes  covered  with 
eternal  snows,  and  the  gray  rocks  above  the  snows,  these  mon- 
.ster  peaks  so  nearly  covering  me  that  I  must  bend  back  my  head 
to  look  at  them, — then  I  do  not  envy  any  one  seeing  other  sights  ; 
these  are  enough  for  me,  and  I  scarcely  regret  that  our  ship  had 
not  come. 

It  is  a  delightful  thing  to  sit  at  Interlaken  as  the  sun  sinks  and 


"a 


H;  \ 


a6 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


paints  the  pure  brow  of  the  Jiingfrau — Switz  .Tland's  pride  and 
<^lory.  But  thtic  the  Unpolluted  Maiden  is  so  far  ofT  that  we 
cannot  become  familiar  with  her.  Here  the  mountains  are  so  close, 
that  a  bee-line  drawn  from  wiierc  I  sit-  would  reach  lofty  peaks 
and  ragged  brows  in  every  direction,  at  distances  varying  from 
two  or'^tlirce  to  perhaps  six-  or  eight  miles.  These  mighty  heights 
are  lifted  a  mile  to  a  mile  and  a  quarter  higher  than  the  road-bed. 

The  train  from  the  east,  meeting  ours  at  Glacier  House, 
brought  Prince  Devawongse  and  his  nephews,  the  little  prince- 
lings of  Siam,  and  their  suites.  After  a  good  dinner,  we  were  all 
soon  in  single  file,  and  armed  with  improvised  alpenstocks,  off  for 
the  great  glacier  which  hangs  over  the  head  of  the  valley,  and 
runs  down  it  nearly  or  quite  a  mile  at  a  slight  elevation  above  our 
hotel.  The  newly  cut  pathway  through  dense  forests  and  woody 
dcbri'  broui^iil  down  by  avalanches,  and  over  rough  bridges  span- 
ning the  foaming  torrent,  which  issues  from  the  glacier  foot  and 
flows  down  the  valley,  is  more  picturesque  than  easily  trodden. 
The  glacier,  where  we  stood  under  it,  was  perhaps  i2o  tcet 
deep.  Rushing  from  ice  caves  are  several  torrents  which 
we  calculated  were  bearing  down  fifty  odd  thousand  cubic 
feet  jier  minute,  thus  showing  the  great  size  of  the  snow  or  ice 
field  above.  At  one  place  our  whole  party  of  over  20  entered  a 
beautiful  grottn.  large  enough  to  hold  twice  the  number.  yVbove 
and  around  us  were  ceilings  and  walls  of  emerald  green.  The 
Siamese  kept  up  such  a  din,  that  we  feared  their  voice  would 
cause  masses  of  ice  to  tumble  in  upon  us.  In  .Switzerland  guiiles 
forbid  loud  talking  in  such  grottos.  We  made  them  finally  un- 
derstand this.  We  all  cut  and  ate  of  the  pure  crystals,  one  of  us 
remarking  they  may  have  been  formed  more  than  a  century  ago. 
No  one  has  yet  measured  the  speed  of  descent  of  this  frozen 
stream.  The  ice  we  were  eating  ma\-  have  fallen  as  snow  before 
Washington  cut  the  cherry  tree,  or  even  before  Columbus  made 
an  egg  stand  on  end.  It  was  very  pure  and  cold  enough  to  be 
very  old.  The  little  fledgelings  of  .Siamese  loy^'lty  were  wontler- 
fuUy  delighted,  and,  like  boys,  begar,  to  cut  steps  into  the  sloping 
side  of  the  glacier  to  try  cO  climb  it.  I'\)r  this  purpose  one 
of  their  party  had  provided  himself  with  a  hatchet  at  the  hotel. 
The  Lask,  however,  was  abandoned  when,  in  a  half-hour,  the)  had 
readied  only  a  few  feet 

\\\  the  w.iy,  this  is  a  very  intelligent  lot  of  y\siatic^ .  The 
brother  of  the  king  speaks  Tnglish  with  considerable  purity,  and 
the  '.-oung  princes  well.  They  all  have  charming  manners,  and 
seem  fond  of  fun.  They  are  to  sail  on  the  ParlJiiu,  and  we  may 
find  theui  not  only  agreeable  but  valupble  co-voyagers  in  the 
event  we  should  conclude  to  visit  Siam.  If  tlie  prince  will  prom- 
ise  us  a  genuine  elephant  hunt,  we  will  do  it.  Willie,  wh.j  is  of 
an  anibitious  turn,  talks  of  falling  in  love  with  a  Siamese  princess, 
but  johnny  says  "  no  Siamese  in  mine." 


pride  and 
iff  that  we 
re  so  close, 
afty  peaks 
ying  from 

t>-  heights 

road-bed. 
■r  House, 
tie  prince- 

e  were  all 
:ks,  off  for 
'alley,  and 
above  our 
ind  woody 
dires  span- 
;r  foot  and 
y  trodden. 
^  1 20  feet 
nts  which 
;ind  cubic 
now  or  ice 
)  entered  a 
:r.  Above 
■een.  The 
icc'-  would 
;inci  guides 

finally  un- 
.,  one  of  us 
nitury  ago. 
this  frozen 
tiow  bef<5re 
nbus  made 
ough  to  be 
:re  wonder- 
the  sloping 
Lnp(  se  one 
;  the  hotel, 
r,  tliL)  had 

tic-.  The 
purity,  and 
mners,  an"d 
nd  we  may 
^rers  in  the 
:  will  prom- 
:,  who  is  of 
se  princess, 


DOUGLASS   FIRS,  VANCOUVER,  BRITISH    COLUMBIA, 


I  I 


|il  ii 


I 


A  VALANCHES. 


»1 


Two  miles  up  the  road  from  the  Glacier  House  is  the  summit 
of  the  road  in  the  Selkirk  range.  Here,  from  a  small  snowy  gorge, 
run  the  silvery  streams  which  carry  the  waters  to  the  east  and  to 
the  west.  The  one  to  the  west  becomes  the  Illeciliwaet  River, 
which,  until  it  reaches  the  Columbia,  is  always  a  rapid  mountain 
torrent,  affording  the  sightseer  constant  delight  by  its  cascades 
and  deep  canyons.  The  time  is  not  far  distant  when  tourists  will 
seek  this  locality  as  they  now  do  the  old  scenery  of  Switzerland. 
When  one  first  sees  the  inclosed  valley  about  this  station,  he  is 
not  as  much  pleased  by  it  as  he  will  be  after  several  days'  sojourn 
among  its  mountain  fastnesses.  Ho  has  entered  it  through  so 
much  grand  scenery,  and  his  eye  has  become  so  accustomed 
to  nature's  majestic  works,  that  he  looks  upon  this  as  simply  a 
part  of  the  whole.  Hut,  after  sleeping  a  night,  he  looks  out  in 
the  gniy  morning  upon  the  cold  peaks,  and  then  watches  until 
the  sun  begins  to  scatter  delicate  rose  tints  upon  the  snow-fields, 
and  after  a  while  to  ligliten  up  the  old  glacier,  then  he  sees  the 
surrounding  objects  as  a  unit,  and  takes  it  in  as  one  of  the  rare 
spots  to  be  visited  and  enjoyed.  Walk  in  any  direction  for  miles, 
and  the  roar  of  cataracts  is  never  absent, — scarcely  has  the  sound 
of  one  died  out  before  another  is  heard.  Tliere  are  a  half-dozen 
which  give  out  the  decj)  bass  undertones  of  a  great  fall. 

We  can  stuil\-  in  the  Selkirks  the  working;-  nf  the  avalanche 
better  than  in  any  other  locality  I  have  visited.  The  tracks  of 
hundreds  can  be  seen  from  tiie  railro").  Tlie  fall  of  snow  is 
enormous.  The  air  coming  from  the  ot  o\'cr  the  Cascades  and 
Gold  range  is  surcharged  with  moisture.  .irtlier  wc^t  it  is  con- 
densed into  rain.  Mere  it  becomes  snow,  ami  tlv  fall  is  very 
great,  some  winters   we   were   told,  reaching  ::c<.  or  40  feet. 

It  becomes  piled  in  vast  masses  upon  the  mountain  lieights. 
The  sun  in  February  and  March  pours  down  great  heat.  It  is 
aided  by  the  chenook  winds,  and  loosens  the  snow  masses  in  the 
upper  gorges.  Down  the  snow  rushes  in  avalanclve,  reaching,  it 
is  calculated,  at  times  a  speed  of  100  miles  per  hour.  The  largc-t 
timber  is  cut  close  to  the  ground  or  torn  up  b>-  the  roots.  It 
sweeps  into  the  valley,  piling  its  debris  of  rocks  and  trees  to  a 
height  of  man)'  feet.  It  sweeps  to  a  considerable  distance  up  the 
slopes  across  the  valley  ;  but  its  ilestruction  is  not  confined  to  the 
space  the  slide  covers,  for  the  rushing  wind,  pushed  ahead  of  the 
descending  mass,  strikes  the  trees  on  the  hill  opposite  and  mow.i 
them  down  far  above  the  foot  of  the  avalanche. 

One  can  see  many  acres  covered  with  upturned  trees,  all  lying 
with  their  tops  up-hill,  as  regularly  as  if  they  had  fallen  before  the 
axe  of  skilled  choppers.  We  saw  one  of  these  places  stripped  by  the 
\vind  covering  many  acres,  the  upper  limit  on  a  very  steep  foot- 
hill being  fully  a  (juarter  of  a  mile  above  the  valley!  Often  the 
foothills  have  been  denuded  of  trees  for  the  width  of  a  mile — not 
the  effect  of  one  snow-slide,  but  of  those  of  many  years.  The  young 


I 


m 


'-$. 


,  I  1 


'    I 


38 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


trees  and  shrubs  covering  the  stripped  avalanche-tracks  varying 
in  age  from  one  to  ten  or  many  more  years.  In  some  places  the 
second  "rowth  has  become  quite  fair  timber.  The  slide  cuts  a 
swath  through  the  forest  as  sharp  and  well-dffined  as  the  track  of 
a  mower's  scythe.  One  sees  the  old  forests  cut  down  to  a  line  as 
strai<Tht  as  if  drawn  to  a  rule.  Then  there  may  be  a  growth 
of  10  or  12  years.  That  has  again  been  cut  into  by  a  later 
slide,  and  a  third  growth  has  sprung  up.  This,  too,  has  been  cut, 
and  a  still  later  growth  has  followed.  We  saw  one  place  where 
we  counted  fiv:  different  cuttings,  or  mowings,  of  this  sort,  the 
tracks  covered  by  trees  of  different  growths.  In  many  places 
there  seem  to  be  slides  every  year.  In  these,  the  very  soil  has 
been  carried  away  by  the  annually  recurring  avalanche.  One  sees 
the  track  of  a  small  slide  not  over  50  feet  wide,  and  yet  the 
large  trees  have  been  cut  down  b)-  it  as  if  shaven.  Sometimes 
the  track  of  the  slide  has  been  from  some  cause  deflected  at  a 
broad  angle.  In  such  places  the  trees  had  been  thrown  down  to 
a  considerable  distance  below  the  turn  by  the  wind,  which  did 
not  make  the  bend,  as  the  snowy  mass  pushing  behind  it  had 
done.  I  said  I  rode  much  of  our  way  back  to  (ilacier  House  on 
the  locomotive.  (On  the  downward  way  I  had  a  new  exi)eriencc. 
I  rode  on  the  cow-catcher  from  the  time  we  struck  the  Thompson, 
through  the  canyons  of  the  Frazer,  and  on  to  Vancouver.  It 
was  a  delicious  ride,  free  from  dust  and  cinders,  almost  without  a 
rough  motion — as  if  I  were  sliding  along  at  furious  pace  on  a 
smooth  surface,  without  any  other  motive  power  than  that  t)f 
volition.  The  locomotive  being  behind,  I  almost  forgot  his  huge 
size,  and  felt  I  was  simply  skimming  the  road.  It  was  by  far  the 
most  "lorious  ride  I  have  ever  taken. 


'  11 


A 


CHAPTER  VI. 


i 


FROM  VANCOUVER  TO  YOKOHAMA— AX  OCEAN  VOYAGE  IJKENED 
TO  THE  VOYAGE  OK  LIFE— THE  RISKS  OF  THE  SEA— STORMY 
PASSAGE- A  TYl'IIOON— PLUCKY  JAPANESE  SAILORS— OUR  MIS- 
HAPS  AND  RECOVERIES. 

Steamship  "Parthia,"  Pacific  Ocean,  Sept.  ii,  1887. 

This  is  Sunday  morning,  and,  although  yet  a  thousand  miles 
from  Yokohama,  I  begin  my  ship  letter  for  several  good  reasons. 
In  the  first  place  the  day  commences  beautifully;  the  sea  is  com- 
paratively smooth  ;  the  sliip  rolls  gently  as  she  dips  into  or  rises 
from  the  trough  of  a  small  swell  coming  up  from  the  south,  and 
by  jioising  a  table  upon  the  top  of  a  valise,  enabling  it  to  rise  and 
fall  with  the  ship's  dip,  I  can  write  quite  comfortably — almost  the 
first  time  it  could  be  done  for  some  ten  days.  Secondly,  it  being 
Sunday,  no  one  will  drop  in  to  propose  *'  a  little  game  of  draw." 
Nor  will  any  one  pop  in  his  head  to  find  out  if  we  wish  to  take  a 
bet  on  the  ship's  run,  or  on  the  length  of  the  mikado's  mustache. 
One  of  our  passengers  is  ready  for  a  wager  on  any  thing,  from  the 
weight  of  a  Japanese  mosquito's  wing  to  the  height  of  the  geyser 
the'next  whale  will  spout.  Betting,  repeating  poetry  by  the  yard 
— doing  it  well,  too, — and  damning  the  fellow  who  named  this  the 
Pacific  Ocean  has  been  the  mania  of  Dr.  S— —  for  the  past  ten 
days.     In  short,  I  can  have  the  day  to  myself. 

But  what  shall  I  say?  What  can  I  write  about  the  sea  and  the 
passage?  Every  one  who  has  been  sufficiently  lacking  in  brains 
to  write  travellers"  letters  has  written  of  the  sea — the  deep,  darkly 
blue  sea.  But,  after  all,  if  the  bulk  of  the  world's  population  be 
idiots,  why  should  not  I  join  the  procession?  I  can  moralize 
thus  :  A  sea  voyage  is  a  fair  epitome  of  the  voyage  of  life  of  one 
who  has  an  abiding  faith  in  a  blessed  immortality.  The  more 
uneventful  it  be,  the  happier.  Behind,  all  is  left.  On  the  other 
side  is  the  land  of  promise — the  haven  of  rest ;  a  desolate  Vvaste 
covers  ail  tin,  space  between.  If  there  be  calms,  then  all  is 
blank — i.othing  for  the  eye  to  rest  upon  ;  nothing  on  which  to 
hinge  a  thought ;  naught  but  stagnation  and  vacancy.  If  storms 
arise  anc'  billows  are  piled  mountain  high,  then  there  is  exhilara- 
tion, excitement,  and  awe, --a  species  of  wild  pleasure.  But  with 
this,  the  bravest  heart,  realizing  its  utter  powerlessness  to  battle 
against  nature's  forces,  so  la',  ishly  demonstrated  all  around,  can- 
not help  feeling  a  somewhat  painful  anxiety.    Quiet  and  a  restful 

29 


i 

I 


ir 


I. 


Ij     ii 


si- 


i 


30 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


sleep  becomes  an  impossibility.  But  let  there  he  an  ordinary, 
quiet  sea,  uitli  its  ili_L,niificd  ground-swell  ;  a  breeze,  sufficient  to 
break  the  crest  of  the  swell  into  white-caps,  and  to  cause  laugh- 
ing, dancing  ripples  between,  then  one  can  watch  A  hour  after 
hour,  day  after  day,  and.  though  impatient  of  delay,  never  grow 
weary.  The  clouds  pass  from  horizon  to  zenith  ami  across  the 
sky  in  ever  changing  transformation,  permitting  the  im.igination 
to  draw  pictures  in  infinite  forms,  and  to  weave  fancies  in  endless 
variety.  The  ocean's  swells  roll  toward  one.  ever  the  same,  yet 
one  cannot  resist  the  impressiiMi  that  each  succeeding  roll  will 
differ  from  the  one  before.  The  eternal  motion  is  suggesti\-e  of 
life,  and  life  with  motion  is  never  the  same  from  one  moment  to 
another.  Life  and  motion  make  change  a  necessity.  As  one 
watches  wa\'e  chasing  wave,  an  effort  is  recpiireil  to  keep  the 
looker-on  from  expecting  a  variation.  Let  him  give  thought  free 
range,  and  then  that  most  beneficent  of  (lod's  gifts  to  man — hope 
— will  enable  him  to  watch  and  dream,  and,  seeing  no  change,  yet 
ever  hoping  for  change,  he  will  watch  ami  watch  with  constant 
interest. 

So  the  pilgrim  on  the  voj-age  of  life,  knowing  his  haven  of  rest, 
his  harbor  of  refuge,  lies  at  the  end  t)f  the  unknown  path  he  is 
treading,  thankful  for  each  tiay's  blessing,  pursuing  the  even  tenor 
of  his  way,  ever  occupied  enough  to  repel  th-'-t  absolute  re.st  which 
breeds  rust  of  the  brain  and  stagnation  of  the  faculties,  hears 
sweet  music  in  the  sighing  of  the  wind  and  a  lullab)-  in  the  buzz- 
ing of  the  bee;  drinks  in  sweet  odors  distilled  by  the  morning 
dews  and  exhaled  by  the  commonest  leaf;  builds  castles  in 
clouds,  and  sees  fiery  coursers  in  the  cloud-shadows  as  the\ 
each  other  across  the  meadows  and  fields;  IxlieviuL' 


the 
chase 

-his  is 
in  a 


_.  Iiopmg — 
a  happy  anil  prosperous  voyage.  Hut  if  his  life  "be  eventful 
race  after  wealth  or  a  chase  after  renown  in  any  of  the  walks  of 
life  ;  if  he  mingles  in  the  world's  storms,  where  men  clash  against 
men,  and  people  climb  over  shattereil  fortunes  or  the  blackened 
names  of  others,— however  surely  he  may  climb  the  ladder,  there  is 
over  a  rung  higher  than  the  one  he  has  reached  ;  there  is  ever  a 
rung  which  is  beyond  his  grasp.  However  often  he  may  win  in 
the  race,  there  is  ever  a  goal  which  recedes  as  he  ai)proaches  it. 

Some  who  go  down  ujjon  the  sea  in  ships  feel  a  vague  sort  of 
dread;  but  very  many  think  themselves  all  safe  when  the>-  lie 
down  upon  one  of  the  great  greyhounds  between  New  York' and 
Liverpool.  Our  captain  told  me  of  a  thing  which  illustrates  the 
dangers  run  even  upon  these  well-managed  monsters.  One  of  the 
most  famous  ones  was  several  da\-s  without  an  obscrvati.  .  v~)n 
this  account  she  was  held  down  southward.  .She  was  thought  to 
be  south  of  Ireland.  Officers  were  w.itching  at  night  for'stars- 
one  of  them  was  startled  by  seeing  through  a  rift  in  the  clouds  a 


planet  rising  off  the  beam,  whereas  it  should  have  come  up  over 
bow.     Presently  he  saw,  what  he  thought,  the   north   .star; 


th 


THE  NEW  CAPTAIN. 


31 


ordinary, 

fficient  to 

c  lau^h- 

lour  after 

ever  L,^ro\v 

cross  tile 

i;,nnation 

in  endless 

same,  yet 

roll    will 

;csti\c  of 

onieiit  to 

As  one 

keep   tlie 

oui^lit  free 

lan  —  hope 

hanL,re,  yet 

1  Constant 

en  of  rest, 

lath  he  is 
e\en  tenor 

rest  w  hich 
ties,   hears 

the  l)n/.z- 
L.'  niorninLj 
ties  in  the 
they  chase 
)ini; — his  is 
entful  in  a 
e  walks  of 
ish  at^ainst 

blackened 
ler,  there  is 
e  is  ever  a 
ia)-  win  in 
)aclus  it. 
;iie  sort  of 
n  they  lie 

^'ork  and 
itrates  the 
L)ne  of  the 
iti.  ..  v^n 
'hoii^iit  to 
:  for  stars; 
c  clouds  a 
ne  up  over 
orth  .star; 


took  an  observation,  and,  on  calculation  on  the  basis  that  this 
was  the  jiolestar,  found  the  ship  off  the  Scottish  coast,  and  near 
400  miles  north  of  where  they  supposed  her  to  be.  The  clouds 
passiiiL^  off  proved  tiie  observation  to  be  correct.  Her  course  was 
ciianii^ed,  and  none  but  the  owners  ami  oiTicers  ever  knew  what  a 
wild  race  the  greyhound  had  run.  Tlie  ship's  metallic  frame  and 
W(Mks  had  set  the  compass  wild. 

When  we  returned  to  X'ancouver  from  our  run  back  into  the 
mountains  to  sail  in  the  Parthia  we  found  slie  could  not  be  ready 
before  the  29th.  The  hotels  of  the  town  are  very  poor,  ami  the 
fine  new  house  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railroad  Company  will 
not  be  finished  for  some  months.  \Vc  therefore  resolved  to  make 
a  iiotel  of  the  ship.  On  .^oinj^  to  the  state-room  assit;ned  us  we 
found  it  small  and  far  aft,  wliereas  our  room  on  the  Initavia, 
beiuL;  one  of  the  best,  we  were  entitled  to  one  of  the  best  on  this 
ship,  wiiicii  had  been  substitutetl  for  tlie  other.  We  positively 
refused  to  accept  the  assii:fnincnt,  but  put  our  ba!^t:[age  in  one  of 
the  better  rooms,  which  we  were  told  w.is  held  for  the  .Siamese 
princes.  The  shore  officer,  wiio  is  char-^'ed  with  i^ettinj.;  the  ships 
of  this  line  ready  for  sea,  was  sent  for.  He  conceded  the  justice 
of  our  demand,  but  said  he  could  do  nothing;  until  the  new  caji- 
tain  should  reach  there  from  the  east.  He  promised,  however,  if 
we  would  rest  (piiet  he  would  see  that  wc  should  he  thorouL^hly 
satisfied.  Under  this  assurance  we  each  took  a  ljoolI  r(joni  and 
awaitetl  events. 

On  the  mornini;  of  the  2"th  we  were  readini^^  on  deck  v  hen  we 
saw  a  tjueer  compound  between  an  En^ilish  farmer  and  a  towns- 
man comincj  from  tiie  railroad  station,  with  a  sailor's  gait  so  roll- 
ing that  one  would  think  he  felt  the  pier  beneath  his  feet  flound- 
ering in  a  rough  sea.  He  looked  not  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left, 
but  marched  over  the  gang-plank  and  up  to  dashing  Captain 
Brougli,  who  was  standing  upon  the  deck  he  iiad  so  many  months 
trod  as  its  monarch,  but  was  so  soon  to  leave  forever.  The  two 
men  shook  hands.  They  were  the  old  and  the  new  captains. 
The  contrast  between  the  two  was  amusing.  Brougli.  with  his 
magnificent  physique,  was  dressed  in  an  elegant  business  suit. 
He  wi.  uld  have  been  theadmiration  of  women  and  the  envy  of  all 
dudes.  His  own  mirror  always  gives  him  an  admiring  gaze.  The 
other  looked  as  if  he  liatl  never  seen  a  looking-glass,  and  did  not 

care  a if  he  never  saw  one.     His   shoulders  were  of  gr ..'at 

width,  and  his  chest  as  deep  ;is  that  of  a  Devon  bull.  His  body 
was  made  for  a  six-footer,  while  his  legs  had  beer  sawed  off  for  a 
man  of  five  feet.  His  clothes  had  been  hastily  picked  up  at  a 
slop-shop  in  Liverpool.  His  shoes  had  seen  no  blacking  since  he 
left  the  deck  of  the  Alaska,  and  on  his  well-shaped  head  was  a 
stove-pipe,  built  on  a  block  which  was  unfashionable  ten  years 
ago,  and  which  had  been  ironed  each  spring  for  a  half-dozen  years. 
In  his  hand  he  held  a  cotton  umbrella.    This  was  Captain  Arnold, 


A 


n 


I 


Ii    <i 


.1 


39 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUX. 


the  late  first  officer  of  the  Ahska,  and  at  one  time  of  the 
Arizona,  who  has  the  United  States  and  several  other  medals 
<Mven  for  saving  life.  When  he  came  from  his  cabin  the  day  we 
sailed,  dressed  in  his  new  captain's  uniform,  buttoned  up  so  as  to 
hide  the  shortiiess  of  his  legs,  he  was  an  extremely  handsome 
man.  and  looked  every  inch  the  captain  of  a  great  steamer.  To- 
day  there  is  no  passenger  on  this  sliip  who  would  not  feel  like 
taking  w\>  a  cudgel  for  Captain  Arnold. 

Arnold  was  first  officer  of  the  Arizona  when  she  ran  her  nose 
into  an  iceberg  a  few  years  ago,  losing  in  the  contest  some  25 
feet  of  her  bow.  As  soon  as  the  officers  could  get  well  upon 
their  feet  tlicy  piped  up  the  men,  and  after  finding  them  ail  right 
set  to  work  to  make  repairs.  All  at  once  the  whole  crew  was 
missing.  Arnold  found  them  in  the  cabin  on  their  knees,  where 
a  clergyman  had  improvised  a  prayer-meeting.  He  went  in  with 
a  stick  and  drove  them  out  with  an  oath,  telling  them  to  get  the 
ship  riglit  and  then  they  might  pniy  to  their  heart's  content.  As 
he  was  passing  into  the  companion-way  he  met  an  old  gentleman 
coming  up  with  his  valise  in  one  hand  and  an  umbrella  in  the 
other,  as  if  seeking  a  hotel.  A  tips)-  jjassenger  who  hail  been  in 
the  smoking-room  at  his  cujis  was  coming  down,  and  seeing  the 
old  gentleman  sang  out  in  iliunken  humor  :  "  Have  a  cab,  sir  ?  " 

Oil  the  27th  Captain  Webber  gave  us  the  half  of  the  smoking- 
room  on  deck,  and  placed  some  carpenters  under  our  control  to 
fit  the  room  upacconling  to  our  own  fanc)-.  We  rigged  up  three 
berths  in  a  room  9  by  12,  with  two  windows  on  each  side,  a  long 
sofa,  large  mirror,  ami.  in  fact,  every  thing  to  m.d<e  us  comfort- 
able for  a  long  voyage.  The  j)artition  was  stained,  and  Japanese 
ornaments  were  hung  upon  the  walls.  M)-  berth  was  run  athwart 
.ship,  so  as  to  leave  the  sofa  free.  The  other  room  was  fitted  up 
for  I'rince  Devauongse  and  the  little  Si.imese  jjrincelings. 

Thus  we  had  a  room  rarely  given  to  travellers — on  deck — 
plenty  of  fresh  air  and  fine  light.  We  have  escaped  all  the  un- 
pleasant odors  of  the  regular  below-deck  cabins,  and  .ilready 
begin,  with  a  sigh,  to  compare  our  quarters  with  those  we  will 
probably  have  in  the  five  or  si.x  sea  voyages  we  must  yet  take 
before  touching  our  native  land.  I  am  suspicious  our  fine  room 
has  gained  for  us  the  ill-will  of  other  passengers  who  were  not  so 
fortunate. 

We  pulled  out  from  the  pier  at  Vancouver  on  the  29th  at  5.30 
-V.M.  in  the  rain.  The  fog  which  had  covered  the  locality  for 
weeks  was  lifted  and  gave  us  a  fine  view  of  the  picturesijue 
mountains  which  environ  the  town.  We  reached  Victoria  at  i, 
and  at  4.30  steamed  away,  having  taken  on  the  bulk  of  our  })as- 
scngers  and  obtained  the  .ship's  clearance. 

We  steamed  through  the  narrow  strait  of  I'uca,  having  a 
tolerably  fair  view  of  the  liigh  l.uids  of  the  island  to  the  north 
and  the  snow-clad  Olympians  on  the  south,  and  ;it  half  past  three 


i  il'l 


S£A-S/CA'A'£SS. 


33 


^S| 


took  off  our  hats  and  made  our  bow  to  the  mighty  Pacific 
Ocean,  upon  whose  vast  bosom  we  now  for  the  first  time  found 
ourselves.  Our  ship  at  once  took  her  course — west,  14°  south 
— and,  what  will  seem  strange  to  the  uninitiated,  this  course 
never  varied,  in  a  run  of  1,000  miles,  more  than  a  point  or 
two.  carried  us  up  from  latitude  49°  30'  to  51°,  within  70 
miles  of  tiie  Aleutian  Isles,  and  then  varying  not  over  two 
points  brought  us,  in  a  further  run  of  3,300  miles,  down  to 
Yokohama,  in  latitude  35°.  That  is,  this  was  the  course  as  indi- 
cated by  the  compass.  But  that  mysterious  variation  of  the 
needle,  which  no  one  can  yet  explain,  indicated  what  was  very  far 
from  the  true  course.  Why  this  is  so,  and  why  the  needle  points 
at  all  to  the  magnetic  pole,  will  some  time  be  known  to  man  in 
his  wonderful  march  in  science,  unless  he  and  his  researches  sliall 
be  too  soon  blotted  out  by  some  mighty  cataclysm  of  nature. 

During  our  first  and  second  day's  run  we  sighted  the  Abyssinia 
and  two  schooners  coming  down  from  the  Aleutian  Isles,  possi- 
bly  seal  pirates,  and  had  light-head  winds  but  very  rough  seas. 
Before  the  end  of  the  third  da\'  nearly  all  of  the  35  cabin 
passengers  were  down  with  sea-sickness.  The  table  was  deserted 
i)V  all  except  three  or  four  of  the  passengers.  Johnny  and 
Willie  were  rueful  and  very  pale  about  the  gills.  John  soon 
gave  in,  but  Willie  was  unwilling  to  confess,  and  tried  hard  to 
maintain  the  native  hue  of  his  resolution,  until  he  heard  that  our 
old  se.i-tlog  of  a  captain,  who  luul  been  from  boyhood  upon  the 
seas,  confessed  to  feeling  "that  worst  of  all  diseases,  nausea,  or  a 
|)ain  about  the  lower  regions  of  the  bowels,"  and  that  the  afore- 
>aid  captain  laid  the  whole  blame  upon  this  "blasted  peculiar 
ocean."  The  two  boys  lay  in  their  berths  wishing  thej'had  never 
seen  salt  water,  and  were  as  miserable  specimens  as  Chicago  ever 
-cnt  al)road.  One  acknowledged  he  wisheil  he  were  at  home,  the 
other  that  the  P.icific  were  as  dry  as  Sahara's  trackless  desert,  and 
that  he  were  on  an  oasis  as  big  as  Atlam's  fig-leaf,  with  no  other 
friend  than  one  f.iithful  ilromeilary.  Poor  boy!  He  was  full  of 
pathos  aiul  bile,  and  would  have  poured  out  long  Spenscrain  an- 
athemas against  sea-sickness,  had  he  not  grown  "  inarticulate  with 
retching." 

"  I  U-  fi-ll  lliat  tliilliiii;  liiMviiu'ss  nf  ho.irt 

(  ir  latlR-r  slimi;uli,  uliidi,  alas  !  aUtiuls, 
licyi.iid  llif  best  aiHitlii'cary's  art, 

riio  lo-.^  iif  lovt.',  llif  In-achcry  nf  friends, 
Ov  tkatli  (if  llhi--i'  wt-  d.itc  .111,  wlic'ii  a  part 

Of  ii>  dies  willi  llii-in,  as  uaili  fund  luipe  ends. 
Xo  dculii  lie  wiudd  liavc  liffii  mukIi  mure  [lathclic, 
Hut  llie  sfa  actiMl  as  a  stnuig  cineiic." 

After  the  afternoon  of  tlie  second  day  we  had  constantly  rough 
seas,  even  when  the  winds  were  light.  They  grew  stronger  day 
by  day,  and  scarcely  varied  from  dead  ahead.  The  swells  grew 
higher  and  higher,  and  our  ship,  though  she  rode  the  waves  like  a 


:  .'4^ 


vVk 


■J 


If; 

■  I 

i 


\  , 


It     j! 


'  I 


i! 


' 


34 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  STN. 


duck,  could  not  help  poking  her  nose  into  the  monsters  pouring 
down  upon  her.  The  seas  were  generally  from  a  decided  southern 
direction  forcing  us  to  take  the  trough. 

My  berth  was  built  athwart  sliip,  and  on  the  fifth  night,  in 
the  midst  of  a  decided  gale.  I  fouiui  myself  now  standing  on 
my  head  and  then  on  my  feet.  The  seas  rolled  in  continuously 
from  the  south  in  mighty  billows,  and  a  cross-.sca  came  in  over 
the  bows  so  that  the  ship  now  rolled  until  she  stood  almost  u]xin 
her  beam  ends,  and  then  plungeil  forwanl  as  if  she  intended  to 
run  her  bow  clear  under  water.  She  would  shake  her  head  how- 
ever and  send  the  water  washing  in  foam  clear  back  to  the  stern. 
Up  she  would  ride  the  coming  wave,  and  the  wave  she  was  leaving 
behind  would  wash  over  her  stern  and  then  roll  back  nearly 
20  feet  above  us.  The  main  swells,  coming  from  the  south, 
washed  the  decks  from  \nx-  to  aft.  One  of  these  dashed  against 
our  ileck-house  with  such  force  that  we  feared  we  would  be  car- 
ried into  the  sea.  Some  passengers,  who  could  not  bear  to  stay 
below— shut  in  by  skylights  all  canvassed  and  lashed,  and  hatches 
battened  down— were  constantK'  having  to  di>dge  behind  the 
house  (jr  leap  upon  lockers. 

On  Tuesday,  the  6th  of  the  month,  we  all  went  to  our  berths 
tired  and  sore  from  the  two  days'  thumping  we  had  receivetl. 
Living  up  to  my  maxim,  "  to  make  the  most  of  the  present  day. 
and  to  hope  for  the  morrow,"  I  did  hope  that  Wednesday,  the 
to-morrow,  would  bring  us  bright  skies  and  smooth  seas.  Alas, 
Tuesday  had  no  morrow. 

Wednesday  never  came. 

It  either  got  lost  in  the  shuffle,  or  old  Sol.  seeing  how  wc  were 
handica])pe(l  in  our  race  with  his  imperial  highness,  took  pity  on 
us,  and  instead  of  throwing  Wednesday  down  so  that  it  would 
fall  upon  the  deck  of  our  ship,  dropped  it  so  carelessly  that  it  got 
tangled  in  the  chain  of  the  Aleutian  Islands,  which  lies  like  a 
necklace  upon  the  bosom  of  the  northern  I'.icific.  And  there  it 
hangs  and  will  hang  forever.  A  liies  non — a  lost  day.  When 
the  captain  took  his  sextant  in  hand  and  pulled  the  sun  down 
upon  the  horizcn  to  read  his  true  reckoning  upmi  his  fiery  face, 
he  found  that  instead  of  Wednesday,  the  ^th  of  September,  it 
was  Thursday,  the  <Sth  ;  the  Thursday  which  had  no  yesterday, 
for  its  day  before  was  dead  in  its  watery  grave,  in  a  pool  a 
little  way  north.  4,000  fathoms  deep.  We  had  passed  the  iSoth 
degree  of  longitude.  We  were  no  longer  west  of  Greenwich,  but 
were  cast  of  it.  Wc  had  one  advantage.  England  can  no  longer 
boast  that  it  gets  up  in  the  morning  before  wc  do.  Wc  are  wide- 
awake, and  are  now  out  of  bed  ten  or  eleven  hours  before  John 
Bull  begins  to  rub  his  lazy  eyes. 

Sea-sickness  had  disappeared  for  a  day  or  two.  Hut  the  terrible 
motion  alluded  to  above  sent  some  of  the  convalescents  again  to 
bed.      The   boys   were  free,   however,   and  enjoyed  hugely  the 


sil 
to 


IV A  I' /IS  OF  TJIK  PACIFJC. 


31 


E 


•grandeur  of  our  surrouiulinj^s.  I  confess  to  fi'dint^  some  little 
anxiety,  especially  when  seein;^'  the  hatches  beinu;  aj,Min  b.ittened 
tlouii.  I  had  been  in  a  storm,  or  rather  stron<;  ^'ale,  on  the  At- 
lantic ;  had  seen  far  strunj^er  winds,  and  had  heard  tiuin  howling' 
far  more  fiercely  thr(ni_i,'h  the  ri^'^iiiy  ;  had  seen  the  sea  mucli 
whiter  witli  storm-foam,  but  had  never  seen  such  monster  hij. 
lows;  had  never  seen  waves  lifted  upon  the  horizon  till  they  re- 
sembled mountain  peaks.  I  had  once  been  in  a  seveii-d.iys'  wind 
which  bordered  upon  a  ^'ale,  and  hail  felt  the  ship  bending  .uul 
seeming  to  crack  beneath  my  feet,  whereas  now  this  ship  seemed 
to  be  as  far  from  any  such  intention  as  she  ii.ul  win  n  on  a  quiet 
sea.  Vet  when  I  looked  upon  these  mi^ht)-  seas  comin;^  in  three 
hu;4e  monsters  and  ihen  followed  !))■  nine  attending  w.iter)'  war- 
riors, I  could  not  help  feeling'  an  awe,  which  intensified  the  ap- 
[)reciation  of  the  m.iLjnificent  paiiorania,  .iiul  which  forced  me  to 
i'eel  how  impotent  was  man,  when  brouyht  into  contact  with 
nature's  titanic  forces. 

t.)n  all  oce.ms,  waves  come  in  regular  succession — three  lari^e 
and  then  nine  smaller  ones.  1  had  often  tried  to  verify  this  when 
watchiii;^^  tliein  upon  the  Atlantic,  but  had  never  been  able  to  see 
such  uell-defmed  e.\hibitioiis  .is  on  the  I'acific.  The  w.ives  ^et  far 
liii^'her  in  a  i^'iven  wind,  their  crests  are  iiukIi  farther  ajjart,  they 
roll  in  more  re^nilar  columns,  the  hollows  are  better  ilefmed  and 
extend  I'or  lousier  di>tances.  ()ftentimes  one  could  look  f.ir  to  the 
south  and  then  to  the  north,  .uul  see  .i  hollow  looking  like  a  valley 
between  mountain  ranges.  A  wind  .irises,  which  we  feel  is 
.1  little  affair,  and  yet  in  a  very  short  t'me  it  will  raise  a  heavy 
swell,  and  the  swell  will  live  for  a  h  ng  time  after  the  wind 
has  been  lulled.  The  c.ii)tain.  who  has  been  on  ocean  steamers 
tor  _'3  }-cars,  .says  tiiat  to  him,  loo,  these  characteristics  were  phiin 
,111(1  emphatic.  In  his  words  :  "  It  is  wonderful  how  (piick  this 
oce.iii  can  get  m.ul,  <ind  on  what  small  provocation.  The  man 
who  nameii  it  I'acilic  had  not  .seen  it  in  these  high  latitudes." 

riie  r.ipid  rising  of  the  sea  c.innot  be  better  illu>tiated  than  by 
st.iting  tli.it  one  night  we  went  to  bed  in  .ilmost  smootii  w.iter. 
The  afternoon  had  been  fine.  Several  of  us  had  sat  u[)on  the 
vessel's  prow  to  watch  an  exipiisite  sunset — a  long  silvery  b.iiid 
stretched  along  the  western  horizon,  tinted  here  and  there  with 
delicate  orange.  The  entire  horizon  was  perfectly  marked. 
Fleecy  clouds  .mil  beautiful  cumuli  were  spread  overthe  sky  from 
zenith  to  horizon.  Tiie  air  hail  for  the  first  time  a  balmy  feeling. 
I'-very  one  s.iid :  "  (looil  weather  now  till  wc  get  in."  I  think  the 
doctor  would  have  given  heavy  odds  on  the  prospect.  The  next 
morning  we  were  up  to  sec  a  beautiful  sunrise,  l^y  the  way.  the 
few  sunrises  and  sunsets  wc  have  seen  here  have  lacked  almost 
entirely  any  redness  of  hue.  They  generall)-  are  beautifully 
silvery,  with  occasion. illy  a  little  suspicion  of  (jrange.  I  sat  down 
to  write.  The  wind  was  rising,  and  the  ship's  roll  was  increasing,  but 


>'.?: 


SC 


'  '  U 


^1 


'Mr 


-Tff 


W 


f|: 


t: 


''}     i 


'   f| 


.\M' 


36 


/f  /t/ic/-:  ir/TJ/  77//'  .sr.\ 


my  tabic  upon  a  \a 


Use  so  nearly  counterbnlanceil  the  roll,  that  I 


was  t) 


on 


.  ..blivioiis  of  any  niarkeii  chanjjc  without.   Johnny  was  asleep 

the  sofa  by  niv  side.     Thump!  a  biji  sea   strikes    the   ship; 

r  liouse,  and  1  with  dirtkulty  escape  takinj^r  a 

Tiie  captain   passed  our  wintlow,  I  cried  : 


water  dashes  upon  ou 


header  over  my 


tabk 


Wliat  do  you  tiiink  of  this,  captain 


It  beats  - 


Thi 


don't 


do 


tl 


ii->  sort  o 


f  tl 


nnc  on 


the  Atlantic.     The  ocean  "ets  mad 


nn 


\-  lunch."     I  fe.ir  I 


quicker  than  a  co(<k->liop  can  ^a-t  u])  a  sixpc 

will  have  to  lay  my  >ty!us  aside,  for  thinj^s  look  bad  without,  and 

yet  it  is  not  four  hours  since  we  were  in  a  quiet  sea.     I  will . 

It  is  now  the  ;ifternoon  of  Moiul.iy.  .  Just  as  I  w.is  writini;  the 
last  sentence  the  shi[)  ^Mve  a  fearful  lurch.  Jolinn\-  w.is  shot  lu.id 


forcn 


lost  across 


the  rciom  and  was  met  b\-  the  cushions  between 


his  and  Willie's  berth.  Willie 


id  flat  on  ilie  floor.     Dr.  .S- 


who  was  reading'  H)ion,  a 


id   1  were  thrown  with  the  table  and 


vali.sc  on  toj)  of  the  wa>h-stand  on  the  other  side  of  the  nxiiii.     It 


was  some  time  more 


b^r 


ore  we  cou 


Id  i\ 


ecover  troni  our  C(jiilusi()n 


And  then  what  a    wnck  I     The  table  was  on    the  opposite  top 
berth,  sofa  cushions  were  oil  to])  of   the  doctor  ,ind  mj'self.     The 


bed 


was 


in  a  mass  amid  the  debris  of  an  e.\-niavor  and  a  Ne' 


York  tioctor.     The  water  had  rushed  thiouj^h  the  crevices  of  tlu' 
door  and  window,  and  onr-hoes.ind  slippers  were  swim  min:,rarf)u  ml 


in  a  surf  bath  ;  a  delicioi 


joiHiLicl  t)f  I'reiieli  ,L;r.ipes  perv.ukd 


t.ie 


atmosphere,  caused  by  the  smashing;  of  some  bottles  of  I'ontet 
Canet  ;  books  and  camp-stools  were  j;oiiij;  forv\ard  and  b.ick, 
beatiiii^the  old-time  breakdowns  of  plantation  dances.  Of  course 
writing;  was  over. 

So(jn  hatchi's  were  battened  down  and  skylii^lits  \\ere  canvased 
and  ia.;hed.  We  had  fore  and  aft  -ails  up  to  .-teady  the  shij).  the 
foresail  was  torn  into  ribbons  and  the  Dtlurs  were  "  brought  home." 
The  wind  rose  and  rose.  The  sea  was  aiisolutily  white,  lookiiij^as 
if  covered  with  a  miLjhtj' mantle  of  lace;  the  rollers  comiiif^  in 
were  high,  but  not  as  much  so  as  those  of  the  6th,  for  they  were 
fully  25  feet,  but  these  seemed  more  angry.  At  3  o'clock  the  log 
showed  ;i  strong  gale  to  have  been  blowing;  at  5  the  wind  was 
down,  but  seas  were  still  high,  and  indeed  continue  so  even  now. 
This  ocean  gets  mad  quick,  but  takes  a  long  time  to  cool  down. 
The  weather  cools  down  (piickly,  but  the  water  beneath  keeps  up 
its  angry  heat.  All  night  the  ship,  which  was  compelled  to  keep 
her  course  in  the  IkjIIow  of  the  seas,  rolled  a  id  rolled,  and  few 
peo[)lc  had  any  sleep. 

To-day  all  look  wearied  and  sore  from  the  24  hou.-s'  thumping. 
I  did  not  stand  on  my  head,  for  on  finding  I  could  not  follow  the 
captain's  joke,  and  tack  about  during  the  night,  over  a  week  ago 
we  tore  down  my  across-iiip  berth  and  got  "the  carpenter  to  fix 
up  the  long  sofa  so  as  to  give  mc  a  gooil" berth  on  it.  Hut  to  our 
tale.  The  captain  and  passengers  have  been  discussing  the  gale, 
and,  from  the  shifting  of  the  winds  as  it  ran,  he  has  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  we  were  in  the  rim  o 


f  a  typl 


loon. 


m 
h. 
wi 
se 
at 


A  PLUCKY  JAPANESE. 


37 


All  the  waiters,  cooks,  etc.,  are  almond-tyecl ;  the  sailors,  except 
two  boatswains,  are  Jap.mesc.  And  plucky  fellows  they  are.  About 
(lark  after  yesterday's  storm,  the  line  wliich  holds  taut  the  fore- 
mast's {;aff  broke  in  one  of  the  heavy  lurches  of  the  ship.  The 
{jaff  is  the  heavy  timber  which  supports  the  fore-and-aft  sails. 
Tliis  was  pitching  terribly,  and  helped  to  intensify  the  ship's  roll. 

The  captain   rushed  out.     "  What  in is  the  matter  with  that 

gaff?  Send  some  one  aloft  to  stay  it."  Presently  the  Jap- 
anese boatswain's  mate,  (luru  Muta  (I  want  to  remember  the 
jilucky  fellow's  name),  went  up  to  the  masthead,  ran  a  loose  knot 
.iround  the  chain  which  holds  up  the  gaff,  and  let  it  slide  down  as 
far  as  it  would  <^o.  This  was  made  fast  below,  and  to  some 
extent  steadied  it.  He  then  took  aloft  another  line,  climbed  down 
the  chain  to  the  end  of  the  {^'.iff,  and  securely  fastened  a  rope  to 
the  point,  and  when  it  w.is  made  fast  and  taut  belf)w  slid  down  it 
like  a  monkey.  it  was  dark.  The  ship  was  heavily  rolling, 
h.iving  been  for  the  time  thrown  into  the  trouf^h  sea.  The  gaff  was 
.it  least  50  feet  above  the  deck,  and  was  being  jerked  like  a  whip 
staff,  to  the  right  ;uul  left — now  over  the  sra  on  one  side  and  then 
as  far  over  the  sea  on  the  other.  The  officers  ail  agreed  that 
sailors  arc  rarely  called  ujjon  to  perform  more  daring  feats.  Two 
or  three  of  us  slipped  into  John's  hand  (this  is  his  ship  name)  a 
d<illar  .apiece  when  he  came  down.  With  a  brave  leader  the 
officers  of  this  ship  say  there  is  no  danger  into  which  these 
fellows   will    not    go. 

Sept.  \lt/i. — We  have  seen  very  little  of  life  on  our  voyage  so  far. 
One  day,  about  the  l>t.  the  sra  was  covered  b}'  myriads  of  Portu- 
guese men-of-war.  They  were  very  small,  none  of  them  exceeding 
two  inches  the  longest  way,  but,  with  their  little  sails  up  and  in 
such  vast  numbers,  they  g.ive  the  sea  the  ajipearance  of  being 
coveretl  with  whitisli  blossoms.  l're(|uinll)'  there  were  eight  or 
ten  to  a  s(juare  yard.  Wii.des  spouting  at  a  distance  were  seen 
every  day,  and  a  few  schools  of  porpoise  have  rolled  in  long  lines 
off  our  beam.  Night  btfoie  last,  after  the  storm  was  over,  a  fl)"- 
ing  fish  about  a  foot  long  lauded  on  deck.  I  lis  wing  fiiis  measured 
over  20  inches  from  tip  to  tip.  We  had  the  winged  adven- 
turer fried  foi  breakfast,  .md  found  him  delicious.  The  flesh  was 
very  white  ami  firm,  .md  reseinl)Ietl  in  llavor  that  of  the  I'.ug'ish 
sole.  All  who  t.isted  it  pronounced  it  \'\\\i:.  We  thought  it  ipiite 
an  event  to  breakf.ist  on  a  fish  which  of  its  own  acconl  h.id 
jumped  into  our  fiying-p.in.  .Some  large  birtls  of  the  gull  orchr. 
d.irk  in  color,  witli  narrow  bat  like  wings  measuring  fully  four  fr>  t 
from  tip  to  tip.  have  been  w  itli  us  for  many  days.  Their  sa'ling 
motion  is  simply  oerfection.  I  li.ive  watched  one  of  them  for  a 
half  hour  without  seeing  ,1  single  decitled  flapping  motion  of  the 
wings.  They  bend  to  the  right  ami  then  to  the  left,  wheeling 
several  hundred  yards  from  the  ship,  then  dropping  as  far  behind, 
and,  without  any  apparent  exertion  catch  it,  though  it  was  running 


I    I  :^ 


idiaisll 


'■■  J 


ip? 


1 
y  « 

'M 

\ 

!■. 

ib 

f 


-; 


I     I 


3« 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SIW. 


fully  1 5  English  miles  per  hour.  Jud-ing  from  the  way  they 
sail  about  us,  I  would  sav  they  fly  from  40  to  50  miles  an  hour, 
and  almost  without  a  downward  motion  of  the  wrng.  Some 
officers  say  thc\-  are  albatrosses,  but  I  have  looked  at  one  when 
he  was  not  over  30  feet  away,  and  thouLjht  his  bill  too  much 
pirreon-shaped.  We  have  seen  a  few  small  albatrosses,  but  not 
close  to  the  ship.  A  few  sharks  have  been  seen,  and  cjuantities  of 
Mother  Carey's  chickens. 

Yesterday 'a  Japanese  man-of-war  passed  within  i  couple  of 
miles  from  us.  Being  saluted,  she  asked  from  what  port  we  came, 
and  slowly  steamed  out  of  sight.  It  made  us  all  feel  we  were 
not  entirely  out  of  the  world.  It  is  wonderful  what  small  things 
will  interest  jieople  at  sea.  Long  before  the  ship  came  near  us 
e\ery  glass  aboard  was  out,  and  conjectures  innumerable  were 
made  a^  to  what  and  who  she  was.  Doctor  S.  .said  she  was  a 
Russian  bear,  aiul  advised  the  captain  to  send  up  American 
culors.  so  as  to  keep  him  from  hitting  us  with  one  of  his  iron 
paws.  Our  one  Engli.sh  passenger  looked  as  if  he  would  like  to 
e.it  a  Yankee  discipie  of  Ivsculapius. 

When  we  s.iiled  we  exi)ected  to  take  sea  baths  every  day  during 
the  voyage,  ami  adhered  to  the  resolution  for  several  days,  but 
found  the  water  up  near  the  Aleutians  too  cold  for  any  beneficial 
effect.  The  temperature  sank  down  as  low  as  53  FahrenlidL.  On 
the  morning  of  the  I  ith  it  went  up  to  (xd  tlegrees.  and  ^n  the  13th 
up  to  '2.  This  rapid  change  was  owing  to  our  having  reached 
the  celebrated  J.ipan  stream,  which  pours  up  from  Japan  along 
tlij  Aleutian  chain  to  the  shores  ol  Al.i-ka,  and  then  down  ui)on 
laitish  Columbia.  The  loth  was  the  first  d.iy  om-  cmild  trcid 
the  steamer's  tleck  in  comfort  without  a  warm  overcoat.  I  am 
now,  on  the  13th,  sitting  in  my  shiirt  sleeves,  \\\\<\.  though  all  the 
windows  of  our  ileck-room  are  open.  1  .un  in  a  decidetl  perspir.i- 
tion.  \\'e  are  in  latitiulc  36  degrees  57  minutes,  .iiul  within 
400  miles  of  Yokoh.ima.  We  have  onl}-  35  cabin  passengers 
and  40  or  50  Chinese  in  the  stutirage.  These  l.ist  are  packed 
like  sardines  in  .i  box.  Tlu'ir  mi-^erable  hinks  during  our 
roULfhest  da\s  were  reall\-  amusiiiL!.      Some  of  th 


bly  flush  in  funds,  but  they  spend   as  iittle  as  possible  in   going 
home.     Their  American  earnings  .re  to   last  them  through   life. 


O 


ur 


an   atrreeable  fa 


lem  are    ])roba- 

;ible  in   goin^ 

through   life- 

niil\-,    and  the  table 


saloon   passengers   ,ire 
is  a  social  g.ithering. 

The  .Siamese  eat  by  themselves  ;  not  from  any  disposition  to 
exclusiveness,  but  the  table  would  nut  .iccommodate  us  .dl  at 
once,  and  they  natunilK-  preferred  being  together.  We  find  them 
quite  good  fellows.  The  little  princes  are  models  of  boyish 
politeness.  They  have  been  in  .Scotland  a  year  ;iiul  a  '--If  at 
school,  and  are  tlecidedly  inteUigent  for  their  ;i<^h's.  I'rince 
Devawongse  is  the  brother  of  the  king,  the  four  \-oung  princes  tiie 
King's  children.    The  prince  informed  me  to-day  that  tliey  were  all 


-^a^ 

I 


mti 
but 

of 
dec 

w 

ref 
the 
wa- 

<|U, 

Ih. 
dit 
sai 
litt 

( 
It  i- 
abh 
sle, 
tin 
obel 

1. 


THE  SIAMESE  PRINCES. 


39 


I 

i 


children  of  different  motlier^^,  none  of  them  being  of  the  chief  wife 
or  (jiieen.  He  and  one  of  his  aides  sleep  in  the  room  adjoining 
ours.  They  all,  however,  spend  the  evenings  and  most  of  the 
day  n  his  v^abin  when  it  is  unpleasant  to  be  out.  Their  amuse- 
ment when  on  deck  consi.st.s  principally  in  shooting  at  a  mark 
with  air-guns.  To  the  smallest,  who  is  not  over  nine  years  old, 
they  arc  proficent  marksmen.  The  suite  ])ay  great  resp.-ct  to, 
but  at  the  same  time  are  thorougiily  famili.ir  with  the  jirince.and 
when  shooting  or  playing  witii  the  shuffle-board  delight  to  beat 
him. 

We  notice,  however,  tiiat  at  night  he  and  th'.'  children  are  the 
principal  talkers.  \Vc  hear  every  thing  said  through  our  board 
partition.  Wiiile  all  s|)eak  considerable  Knglish,  yet  in  their 
intercourse  the\'  talk  .Siamese.  Tiie  prince  evident!)-  finds  no 
difficulty  in  making  his  jokes  appreciated.  Like  "  Souter 
Johnny."  he  "  tells  i)is  queerest  stories,  his  courtiers  laugh  in 
ready  chorus."  lie  seems  very  desirous  of  gaining  information, 
and  to-day  told  us  if  we  should  go  to  Si.un  he  wt.uld  do  what  he 
could  tt)  make  our  time  pleasant.  lie  is  ,i  man  of  considerable 
information,  and  is  evidently  desirous  that  Si.un  shouUl  be  among 
the  ])rogressiv"r  nations  of  the  East.  lie  is  what  with  us  would 
be  calli'd  uiukrsizeil.  but  is  well-knit  and  very  graceful.  In  play- 
ing shuttle-board  he  shows  ])ractice  in  manual  ixircisc,  and  with 
his  air-gun,  at  thr  wnul,  comes  close  to  the  bull's-eye.  Altogether 
one  -.vould  prunounct  him  a  man  of  much  intelligence  and  refine- 
ment of  feeling.  M\(\  .i  thorough  giiitUnian  in  mam.ers. 

The  b())'s  an^  (juite  up  to  the  average  of  boys  of  their  agr  in 
intellect.  All  step  like  \<'ung  martinets  when  using  the  pistol, 
but  an-  thorough  \-oungsters  when  at  their  sports.  ( )ne  d.iy  one 
(if  the  little  fellows  .uid  I  undertook  a  w.dk  of  two  miles  on  the 
deck.  I  h.ul  to  acknowledge  he  beat  me  150  y.irds  in  the  course. 
When  1  told  him  he  could  have  dom-  still  better,  with  polite 
refmement  he  assured  me  he  had  done  his  best,  and  that  he  had 
the  .idvantage  in  h.iving  rubber  soles  to  his  shoes,  and  therefore 
w.is  not  entitled  to  the  praise  gi\en  him  for  his  fine  walking 
(jualities.  The\'  .dl  dress  in  good  taste  and  know  how  to  deport 
theniM-lves  in  Kurojiean  costume.  At  home  their  dress  is  (piitc 
different.  To-day  two  of  them,  the  smaller  ones,  came  out  in 
sailor  ilress,  the  uniform  of  their  f.ither's  )-.icht.  Tl;ey  were  jolly 
little  tars. 

Oh.  the  Pacific  I  the  might)',  the  changeable,  and  mad  Pacific  I 
It  is  all  again  white,  and  a  strong  iiead-wind  is  r.iising  .1  consider- 
able -ea.  It  is  now  the  morning  of  the  14th.  To-night  we  will 
sleep  in  \'okohama.  Hut  1  fe.ir  we  will  get  in  too  late  to  have  a 
fine  view  of  I'uji,  the  great  mountain  which  receives  the  first 
tibeisance  from  travellers  coming  to    Japan. 

I., 1st  night  was  hot  and  sultr)-.  Tiie  doctor  bet  a  quarter  there 
would  be  musijuitoes  aboard  before  morniii;^,  even  if  we  were  over 


:t''i'i^f| 


I 
J 


.    J 


il  , 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 

dc  20      of  August  and  coming  down  to  the  14th  of  September 
:  tempo  ature  of  atmosphere  has  been  day  by  day  as  follou. 
7odc-rces.63.  60,  56,60.  56.60,  58. 55-  53.  53-  59-63.  /^- ^3.  84.  Ibc 
Pterins  been  60  degrees.  61,  58.  57.  55.  55.  55.  54-  =4.  54.  54.  .60, 
fo   -'    78   82      Although  it  has  been  generally  too  cold  forbemg 
oT;^;ck^  in  comfort,  yet^if  we  had  to  n.ake  ch-ce  of  a^^^^^^^^^^ 
as  cold  as  ours  has  been,  or  as  warm  as  it  is  to-da> ,  we  \\oulcl  cer- 
lainlv  choosHl  e  cooler.     One  can  pile  on  clothes  to  keep  warm, 
but  it  is  impossible  to  lay  off  one's  meat  and  sit  up  in  bones 
to  keep  cool. 


ii 


I  ! 


If 


CHAPTER  VII. 

liEAlTII  ri.  ANI>  lilZAKKt;  JAI'AX— IIS  CHEERFUL  MEN  AND  MOD- 

EST  IMMODEST  WOMEN— ITS  MECHANICS  AND  BAIUES, 

HOUSES  AND  CITIES. 


Yokohama,  Japan,  September  30,  1887. 

I  WOULD  write  of  the  land  of  the  Slio^un  (Tycoon)  that  was  ;  of 
the  land  of  the  Tcnshi  (Mikado)  that  is.  I  would  write  of  it,  but 
what  and  how  ?  Where  can  one  find  words  to  pen-picture  a  fairy- 
land— where  colors  to  touch  up  a  glowin<;  dreamland  ?  How  shall 
I  c.itch  and  hold  forms  evolved  by  a  kaleidoscope  constantly 
revolvinfj — forms  made  of  myria  !s  of  pieces  all  differintj  from  any 
before  conceived  of — all  colored  in  tints  before  unknown  and  un- 
expected? One  comprehends  descriptions  of  things  unseen  and 
unknown,  through  comparisons  with  things  known.  Here, 
however,  every  thing  so  differs  from  the  same  thing  elsewhere, 
that  comparisons  can  scarcely  be  made,  and  if  attempted  must 
assume  tlu'  form  of  antithesis. 

Jajian  offers  to  the  eye  a  land  beautiful,  soft,  picturesque,  antl 
dreamy.  And  yet  there  is  rarely  to  be  seen  a  curvilinear  profile 
among  its  mountains  and  hills.  Rarely  do  undulations  mark  the 
sky  line.  All  is  peaked,  notched,  broken,  jagged,  and  ruggei.!. 
ri.iins.  as  such,  are  few  and  of  comparatively  small  extent. 
Mighty  cones  jjierce  the  sky,  and  the  valleys  are  nowhere  sloping 
at\d  wavy,  gentle  and  soft.  They  are  all  canyons,  gorges,  and 
rough  chasms,  ^'et,  with  this  all  true,  her  mountains  delight  and 
rest  the  eye,  aiul  her  v.illeys  invite  one  to  quiet  rambles,  and 
make  one  long  for  a  loving  eye  to  look  into,  for  a  loving  heart  to 
synip.ithi/.e  with.  Here  nature  started  to  make  a  land  for  the  lair 
of  hideous  monsters,  ami  eiuietl  in  making  a  l.iiul  for  dancing  and 
laughing  fairies.  No  ocean  once  rolleil  in  vasty  depths  over  the 
land  and,  subsiiling,  left  it  in  mountain  and  hilly  ranges,  or  in 
sunny  plains  ami  mellow  valleys.  X.iture  conceived  the  island  in 
one  of  her  angriest  moods,  and  brought  it  forth  in  agonizing 
labor.  She  rocked  and  reeled,  shook  and  shrieketl  in  maternal 
throes,  and  lined  upon  her  olTsjiring  the  marks  of  her  woes — 
marks  intendeil  to  terrif)'  .ind  to  breed  inteiisrst  awe.  Hut,  like 
all  true  mothers,  she  j'e.irned  tow.ird  the  child  of  her  sorn:>w,  and 
loved  it  for  the  suffering  it  had  caused.  vShe  cuddled  it  upon 
.1  mother's  breast  and  w.irmeil  it  by  ])uls.itions  from  a  mother's 
heart.     She  cicatrizetl  its  ugly  scars,  ami  painted  them  in  colors 

41 


•■\  .: 


!     !^ 


r ' 


>  ]    J    : 


A  '     W 


.    Mi 


V'-  i  A 


't 


'fi 


^n\ 


■M 


^ 


1 
.1, 


*.f| 


•  i 


/       i 


n 


I  1 


:\ 


J) 


>1 1 


> 


;  1  ! 


42 


/<  ^^c^  /F/r^  Ti/£  sow. 


distilled  from  rainbow  hues,  and  then  spread  over  every  deform- 
ity  a  mantle  of  flowers  and  bloom.  She  wove  t,'arlands  and  hung 
them  upon  every  precipice,  and  festooned  with  wreaths  every 
mountain  crag.  She  broke  the  rushing  torrents  into  feathery  foam, 
and  sent  them  laughing,  dancing,  and  singing  on  their  short  race 
to  the  surging  sea. 

Japan  is  almost  entirely  of  volcanic  origin,  and  as  far  as  we 
have  seen  or  heard,  its  ever\-  part  was  thrown  up  from  the  bowels 
of  the  earth  in  volcanic  eruption.  The  eruptions  did  not  cea.se, 
however,  when  the  molten  rocks  and  hissing  lava  were  ])ilecl  into 
rougli  and  craggy  hili.-  or  lifted  into  mighty  cones— one,  two,  and 
nearly  tliree  miles  high, —for  then  came  showers  of  ashes  of  many 
neutral  tints,  tinged  with  orange  and  vermilion,  purple  and  ch.oco- 
late-brown,  ami  covered  the  cr.iggy  pinnacles  with  eart:i  which  is 
pleasing  to  llie  eye  even  where  no  vegetation  <,jrr.\\s,  making  a 
soil  where  noble  forest  trees,  graceful  shrub.-,  clothed  in  bloom, 
trailing  anil  climbing  \ines.  and  flowers  of  many  kinds  and  of  in- 
numerable dyes  have  fouiul  a  congenial  home.  Vegetation  of 
endless  variety  and  o'  tropical  luxuriance  is  spread  over  mountain 
and  valley,  hill  and  gorge,  moulding  the  rough  and  jagged  peak 
into  rouiuled  liome  and  smoothing  down  the  frightful  gorge  into 
a  smiling  vallc)-.  Nature  repented  of  Iut  angr)-  conception  and, 
touching  her  whelp  with  a  wand  more  powerful  than  l'ros|)ero's, 
re.ired  it  into  a  K)ve-winning  beauty. 

The  laiul  abounds  in  gods — 80,000,  we  are  told, — hitleous  mon- 
sters begotten  of  men's  fears,  born  of  the  cpi. iking  earth,  and 
breathing  volcanic  fires.  JVsides  these,  then-  are  inan\'  millions 
of  dead  fathers,  now  w  (ir^liippcd  by  their  descendants  as  housc- 
liold  gods,  .uiswering  to  the  pmates  of  .incient  Italy.  To  prevent 
the  pos.sibilit}'  of  the  line  of  ;mcestral  gotls  being  broken,  p.irents 
failing  of  st)ns  have  alw.iys  had  the  rights  of  atloptioii.an  .uloptetl 
son  becoming,  by  the  act,  imbued  with  the  power  of  continuing 
the  line  of  iiis  adopted  f.ither.  It  is  said  that  lliougli  passion- 
ately fond  of  their  cliil  ,reii.  a  parent  immedi.ately  invests  the  new 
boy  with  all  the  senriniental  characteristics  of  blood  offspring.  I  lad 
man  never  re.iched  J.ipan's  shores,  the.'^e  gods  would  have  re- 
m,>ineil  unborn,  ami  the  land  would  have  been  the  home  of 
laughing  fauns  and  of  dancing,  gau/y  sprites. 

Hut  man  came,  along,  long  while  ago,  and  erecteil  himself  into  n 
n.ition,  when  or  before  David  harped  and  (i.inced  before  the  ark  of 
the  Lord.  ;ind  before  the  iron  age  of  Rome  w.is  )xt  in  its  cradle. 
For  2,500  years  we  know  that  the  nation  h.is  lived.  Its  men 
have  been  l)e;ists  of  burden,  and  h.ive  done  the  labor  else- 
where  performed  by  the  speechless  brute  and  by  the  soulless 
m.ichine.  During  ,ill  these  long  ages  they  have  toilei!  from  early 
d.iwn  to  latest  twilight— toileil  for  their  bare  food,  clothes  they 
have  had  none  and  needed  not,  :ind  yet  to-day  these  men,  while 
cringing  and  f.iwning  in  tlu  ir  expression  of  -joliteness,  are  other- 


n 


i 


THE  JAPANESE   WOMEN. 


43 


wise  dignified  and  manly  in  their  bearing,  quick  and  graceful  in 
their  movements,  ambitious  and  greedy  for  knowledge,  cheerful 
and  light  in  their  mood.  They  drudge  for  a  pittance,  and  spend 
a  part  of  the  pittance  in  visiting  and  enjoying  romantic  localities, 
wiiere  hills  and  valleys  speak  in  poetry,  and  streams  and  brooklets 
ripple  in  song.  Antl  man's  other  and  sweeter  self — woman— she 
wlio  has  hc-e  ever  been  a  thing  to  bo  sold  for  a  day,  a  month,  a 
year,  or  for  life,  at  her  father's  will,  and,  whether  as  child,  hand- 
maid, concubine  or  wife,  has  had  no  will  of  her  own  —a  very 
slave!  And  yet  this  woman,  but  half  covered  in  the  field  or  upon 
the  road,  and  in  tlie  public  bath  as  free  from  clothing  as  was 
Maiden  I'-ve  when  she  blushed  in  bridal  purity  before  her  Adam 
— this  woman  is  smiling,  sweet,  co(juettish,  plumj),  and  undulating, 
and  K^ems  ever  to  be  veiled  by  an  invisible  mantle  of  modesty. 
Naked,  she  does  not  blusli,  for  she  is  not  so  for  lewd  purposes,  or 
for  the  purpose  of  attracting  a  look,  and  is  not  ash.imed  of  t'ne 
moKl  in  which  she  was  cast.  She  does  not  invite  a  ga/.e,  and 
seems  not  to  know  when  one  is  given.  Clothing  she  wears  for 
warmth  and  adornment,  and  not  fcir  concealment.  an<l  if  she  docs 
blusli,  it  is  because  she  has  not  about  her  the  pretty  things  she 
wears  to  win  admir.'.tinn.  As  wife  and  mother,  sh.e  dotes  on  her 
l)al)\ ,  anil  is  true  to  the  man  she  deems  her  lord,  whether  he  be 
her  iuisband  for  a  week,  a  month,  or  for  years.  Formerly  she  was 
often  sold  by  her  father  for  a  longer  or  shorter  period.  Now, 
under  .i  more  generous  l.iw,  she  is  free,  and  jx't  she  oftimes 
mortgages  herself  ftir  a  term  of  months  or  of  years,  to  lighten  the 
burtleii  of  those  who  brought  her  into  the  world.  (  )ften  one 
•^ives  herself  for  a  ilay  or  ;i  week  for  a  i)rice,  and  yet  wears  no 
sign  or  look  of  a  w.mton,  ami,  coming  out  of  her  bondage,  takes 
tlu'  name  .ind  jjlace  of  wife,  and  bears  the  duties  of  mother,  with 
no  scar  upon  her  forehead,  no  blush  of  sh.une  u|-<on  her  cheek, 
;md  no  brazen  smirk  u|)on  her  lii)s.  The  l)ridal  i).ith  washes  her 
clean,  and  the  niarri.ige  ceremony  wipes  out  the  past.  'Ihe  wife 
is  her  husband's  sol. ice  ,ind  sunshine.  .She  is  in  many  res|)ects  his 
head  servant,  serves  him  at  his  meals,  and  yet  her  smile  is  his  sun- 
shine, and  her  pr.ittle  his  sweetest  am^.sement. 

Whence  came  lliese  men  and  ihesi-  women?  h'roni  what  stock 
did  the)-  s])ring?  Of  what  r.ice  an'  they  born?  They  .ire  neither 
M. day  nor  .Mongol.  Tluy  are  neitlier  .\r\-an  nor  Semitic.  I'.ir  off 
iiere.  for  ages  cut  aloof  from  the  world,  the\'  have  m.in)'  of  the 
in. irks  of  the  Cauc.isi.m  r.ice  mixed  with  Mongolian,  and  resembling 
the  latter  more  than  tluy  do  .my  other.  Hut  the  ilifference  is 
ni.irked,  and  the  resembl.mce  m.i\'  l>e  the  n-sult  of  an  origin 
arising  from  like  c.uises.  The  Mongoli.m  Chinaman,  wherever 
jilaced,  is  a  |)lodding,  burrowing,  conservative  animal.  The 
Japanese  is  volatile,  energetic,  ami  ])rogressive.  The  one  is 
s.ilurnine  .md  slow,  the  other  is  (piick  and  ever  seeking  the 
joyous.     How  came  they  here?     Is  there  anything  reasonable  in 


5  'IM. 


1:1' 


'•■y  fi 


\  fi 


■'is  vl 


'  ('  '■l,„ 


M 
I'    'I  -1,  >  t    jU 


! 

Il 

.  1 

1 

■ 

I 

1 

i  ?' 

44 


A  RACK  WITH  THE  SUN. 


the  general  idea  that  God  started  all  living  things  in  one  original 
pair  of  oach?  Was  Adam  the  fati\er  of  all  men  ?  I  do  not  believe 
one  drop  of  his  blood  flows  in  the  veins  of  the  heathen,  cellar- 
burr.Aving  Chinese.  When  nature  was  ready  for  man,  did  not 
God  have  gardens  of  F.den  wherever  he  willed  man  should  be? 
There  is  nothing  unfaithful  in  the  thought.  Were  not  the 
Japanese  tlie  offsjiring  of  the  foam  which  dashed  upon  their  sea- 
girt shore?  I  am  no  scientist,  I  am  but  a  dreamer.  Man  was 
made  to  laugh  as  well  as  to  weep.  He  is  foolish  if  he  does  not 
lauj'h  a  great  deal  more  than  he  weeps.  He  was  made  to  dream 
as  well  as  to  be  awake.  If  he  keeps  his  conscience  clean,  and 
his  liver  in  good  conilition,  his  dreams  will  be  rosy,  even  his 
widc-a\rake  dreams.  I  am  happy  when  I  dream,  and  dream  I 
will  I  Just  now  I  dream  of  Jai)an— wonderful,  poetic,  bizarre, 
beaiiJfui,  grotesque,  artistic,  plodding,  singing,  weeping,  laugh- 
jn^r^  sighing,  smiling,  gentle,  and  loving,  undcscribed  and  in- 
describable Japan. 

I  closed  my  last  letter  on  tlie  morning  of  the  14th,  expecting 
to  be  in  \'okohama  that  night.  Hut  voyagers  propose,  and  on  the 
Pacific,  according  to  my  observation,  do  very  little  disposing. 
Before  noon  we  were  in  a  strong  wind,  and  dead  aheatl.  We 
scarcely  more  than  overcame  the  strong  current  which  was  run- 
ning against  us.  We  were  all  very  much  put  out,  but  1  did  not 
afterwards  regret  it.  About  three  o'clock  the  clouds  began  to 
scatter,  and  soon  we  had  bright  sunshine,  but  with  a  stiff  wind. 
Toward  the  south  hea\y  clouds  were  hanging.  These  took  a 
form  rarely  seen  ;  a  dense  mass.  ai)paivnl!)-  not  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  high,  and  leaden  in  color,  moving  eastward,  slowly,  but 
evidently  rolling  and  whirling  in  wild  freii/y  on  a  centre.  Over 
it  all  was  a  bright  blue  sk\'.  It  ni.ide  a  sort  of  jiori/on,  so 
distinctly  outlined  was  its  top.  I'lastward  and  westward  we  eoulil 
see  its  limits  We  tocik  it  to  be  not  ovir  15  or  20  miles  in 
extent.     Luckily,  it  did  not  come  nearer  our  ship  than  three  or 


our  mi 


les.     It  was  a   small    tjpln 


)on, 


and    passed    ])artlv    over 
The 


son. 


Yokohama,  .uul  was  one  of  the  most  violent  of  the  sea 
whole  storm  was  containeil  in  a  cloud  compact,  distinct,  a 
ing  lik 


no  roii- 


e  a  low 


b.-i 


ml 


)f  f. 


We   lay   off  ^\•(ldo   bay    until    lii;lit    the    next    day,    and    then 
had  a  beautiful  sail   uj)  to  the  cit}-.      The  bay  is  .1  very  beautiful 


on 


e,  and  was  white  with  the  sails  of  the  early  fishermei 


W 

counted  2,^7  sails  at  one  time  from  a  single  point  on  our  deck. 
Low  mountains  rose  almost  fioin  the  w.iter  on  e.ich  shoix',  .ill 
green  and  treed.  To  our  left  was  the  small  island  V^ries,  with 
the  volcano  Idzu-no-C)shim.i,  lifting  from  the  sea  2,600  feet. 
About  his  head  was  wra|)i)ed  a  turban  of  smoky  mist,  which 
changed  while  we  looked,  into  a  conical  cap,  pointed  high  above. 


Th 


ere  was  no 


fl 


im 


e  visible,  the  smoke  alone  showing  that  the 


mountain  was  an  active  volcano.     At  times  it  belches  forth  Hani!. 


THE  JINRICKISHA. 


45 


as  well  as  vapor,  and  is  said  to  be  very  grand.  Villages  were 
planted  under  the  hills,  along  the  bay,  and  down  upon  the  water, 
and  here  and  there  picturesque  houses  on  the  brows.  High  in 
the  .listanco,  with  his  perfect  cone  piercing  the  sky,  mighty  Fuji- 
yama kept  watch  and  ward  over  the  land. 

Fuji  is  the  name,  the  affi.x  Vama  being  placed  as  a  mark  of 
distinction  or  honor,  strictly  interpreted  Sir  Fuji — the  one  grand 
mountain.  There  are  many  others  over  10,000  feet  high  ;  this 
cone,  rising  almost  from  a  plain,  is  claimed  to  have  been  thrown 
up  when  Jkwa  Lake  was  sunk,  smce  the  Japanese  nation  has 
e.xisted,  and  was  the  act  of  the  gods,  to  show  that  the  island  was 
completed,  and  that  the  work  was  well  done.  Half-way  down  his 
slope  a  belt  of  fleecy  clouds  hung  like  a  graceful  scarf  thrown 
around  a  fair  woman's  bosom. 

Immediately  after  our  ship  dropped  her  anchor,  swarms  of 
small,  odd-looking  boats,  propelled  by  huge  sculling  oars  and 
manned  by  boatmen  in  every  kind  of  costume,  from  the  slender 
clout-rag  up  to  a  coat  of  matting  hung  from  the  should':rs  over 
dusky  forms,  crowded  about  the  .ship.  There  was  hiiaking  of 
iiands  among  the  passengers,  g<K)d  wishes  for  the  future,  and  all 
of  U-;  soon  found  ourselves  upon  J.ipanese — not  Asiatic — terra 
fir  ma. 

Passing  the  custom-hous(>  almost  pro  foriiui  we  were  whirl- 
ing along  the  l)eautiful  inind  for  the  (irand  Hotel,  in  jinricki- 
shas. Parenthetically.  1  will  say  that  all  Asiatic  cities  with  a 
foreign  quarter  have  along  the  water  a  sort  of  boulevaid.  planted 
with  trees,  broad,  and  well  paved,  the  promenade  of  the  foreign 
population,  and  called  a  "bund,"  and  I  will  further  say  that 
the  drantl  Hotel  would  do  credit  to  any  luiroi)ean  city.  Its 
rooms  are  large  ami  airy,  its  cuisine  admirable,  and  its  charges, 
though  high  for  Japan,  would  be  cheaj)  in  America  or  England — 
§3.50  a  day,  Japanese  ruoney,  e.ich  dollar  now  worih  75  cents, 
United  States  coin  ;  includetl  in  this  is  good  claret. 

I  will  now  speak  i)f  the  jinrickisha  iman-|)owcr  wagon\  so  that 
the  term  and  its  use  may  be  full\-  untlerstood  when  used  here- 
aftiT.  It  is  a  small,  two-wheeled  ct)vereil  cart,  not  unlike  a  trot- 
ting sulky,  with  light  shafts  united  in  front  by  a  cross-bar.  Its 
body  rests  on  two  elliptical  springs,  with  a  lifting  top  like  the 
Americ.ui  buggy.  It  is  well  cushioned  and  s])ring)-,  and  is  drawn 
by  .1  man  between  the  shafts,  who  pushes  by  a  hand  on  each,  and 
when  heavily  loaded,  by  leaning  against  the  bar  which  unites  the 
ends  of  the  sh.ifts.  They  are  ortlinarily  propelled  by  a  single 
man,  or  where  e.xtra  speed  is  desireil  or  too  much  weight  is  im- 
posed, by  a  second  or  even  a  thinl  man.  The  second  man  pulls 
in  front  by  a  strap  over  his  shoulders,  and  by  his  hand  pulling  a 
single  trace  ;  occasionally  the  wagon  is  pushed  from  the  rear  by  a 
third  one.  With  a  single  m.m  the  usual  speed  is  about  five 
miles  an  hour  on  good  roads  and  with  light  weight.     With  two 


>•  ,N 


*( 


:  i 


W 


I 


i 


,.  f^ 


!•!    I 


46 


../  A'.lC/':  WITH  THE  SUN. 


men  riinnint;  taiulL-m,  I  have  made  ten  miles  in  an  hour  and  20 
minutes.  With  two  men  to  eacli  waijon.  our  party  ran  from 
Nikl<o  to  L'tsuiioMiiva.  23  miles,  in  four  hours,  witli  two 
short  stops.  The  first  twelve  miles,  a  Ljener.ii  down  <,rrade.  was 
made  without  a  sintjle  halt.  When  we  went  up  to  \ii<k(),  tlic 
■  Made  beini;  an  asceiidin^^  one,  we  took  a  little  over  five  hours. 
Each  wauo'^i  had  in  it  a  man  and  a  heavy  satchel.  The  cliar^c 
for  this  run  was  each  way  Si--^>  ^i  wagon,  or  ninety-five  cents  our 
money.  The  u^ual  charges  in  cities  are  from  eight  tn  ten  cents 
.1  run.'or  ten  cents  per  hour  i)yd;iy,  fifteen  cents  per  hour  at  night 
or  in  a  rain.  This  price  is  ilouhled  if  an  e.xtra  man  be  taken. ^  It 
i.s  a  charming  mcnie  of  travelling,  especi.illy  in  a  city.  Your 
horse  is  told  where  to  g<i,  and  he  goes,  without  rein  or  instruction, 
and  with  never  ,1  grumble  or  .1  kick.  The  rider  sits  up  in  real 
otiiiiii  ciiiii  (/(i^-iiitnii.  The  rider  calls  out  "  hi— i,"  when  .in\-  other 
vehicle  is  in  his  w.i\-,  or  a  pedestri.m  does  not  give  room.  I-'.very 
oni:  moves  out  of  the  way  pleasantlj',  and  with  often  .1  joke  for 
the  ni.in  and  a  smile  for  the  rider. 

Toliteness  is  the  one  niarkeil  virtue  of  this  i)eo])le  not  a 
politeness  of  mere  etiquette,  though  there  is  a  great  deal  of  tliat, 
anil  very  .studied  antl  l.ibored  it  is— but  a  [joliteness  evidently 
coming  from  the  heart,  genuine  and  kitull)-,  and  extended  to  the 
laborer  as  wi'll  as  to  the  gentleman.  Women,  children,  ami  light- 
loaded  nun  ste])  aside  with  cheerful  alacrit\- to  let  the  poor  jin- 
rickisha man  pass,  which  is  most  charming  to  behold.  1 1  he 
ha[)])ens  to  jostle  against  one  lie  is  met  with. i  joke.  Not  once 
h.ive  we  yet  seen  .i  sullen  or  angry  look  from  any  one  who  was 
recpiested  to  give  way.  At  home  we  would  have  been  cursed  or 
blackguarded  ilozeiis  of  times  had  we  maile  the  runs  here  ilone 
through  densely  crowded  streets.  When  a  large  party  is  out  in 
jinrickishas  thej'  follow  e.icli  other  in  close  proximity.  If  a 
britlge.  rut.  or  bad  pLice  is  encounteretl.  the  foremost  man  utters 
a  cry,  which  is  caught  up  by  tiic  iie.xt,  .iiul  so  on  to  the  last,  each 
evitleiitly  trying  to  lighten  the  labor  of  the  others.  At  night 
each  man  carries  a  J.ipanese  lantern.  The  effect  of  these  in  a 
long  train  is  very  bright  in  a  dark,  unlightcd  street,  or  on  ,1  sub- 
urban road  bending  along  a  hiU-siile.  Aikled  to  this  the  jries  of 
the  men,  the  meeting  of  .1  hundred  others,  all  rushing,  bending, 
turning,  and  twisting  in  the  tortuous  lanes  or  n.irrow  crowded 
streets,  you  can  readily  .see  how  charming  such  a  run  must  be. 
The  men  in  cities  wear  short,  tight  trunks  from  just  above  the 
hip  to  the  upper  thigh.  Tlie_\-  start  out  with  .1  sort  of  tunic  or 
shirt  over  the  shoulders  ;  if  the  weather  be  warm  they  tiirow  off 
the  upper  covering  as  they  run.  In  the  country,  instead  of  the 
trunk,  is  sim])ly  a  clout  about  the  loins,  n.irrow  and  full  in  front, 
running  between  the  legs  in  little  more  than  a  ribbon,  and  caught 
on  a  band  over  the  hip.  In  full  garb  a  part)-  will  start  from  a 
village  or  town.   As  they  run,  one  after  .mother  the  men  strip  off 


-7 


JAPANESE  HOUSES. 


47 


their  li^ht  upper  ^;irmcnt,  and  arc  stalwart,  sweating  Adams, 
clothed  with  a  scanty  fi^-lcaf.  This  is  done,  too,  in  the  cities,  by 
men  drawing  natives,  or  loaded  vehicles,  but  is  to  a  considerable  ex- 
tent avt)idetl  by  those  who  run  for  foreigners.  In  Tokio  and  here, 
those  about  foreign  localities  wear  the  trunks  and  close-fitting 
shirt,  ahva\s  blue,  resenii)lii)g  our  undershirts.  This  garb  is  or- 
dered by  the  authorities  out  of  respect  to  foreign  ideas.  The 
natives,  thcnisclves,  men  or  women,  are  not  shocked  bj- an  almost 
naked  man,  and  fureigners  soon  grow  accustomeil  to  it. 

I  matle  m\'  fastist  run  with  a  couple  of  splendiil  fellows  when 
going  at  night  tn  call  upon  X'iscount  Voshida,  formerly  Minister 
to  America.  The  distance  was  long.  The  men  started  out 
clothed.  When  and  how  I  did  not  oliserve,  but  .is  the\'  ran  I 
found  them  almost  stark  naked,  ami  reeking  in  sweat.  It  is 
.1  novel  sight  to  sec  a  dt>/en  wagons  with  their  24  men 
ahead  of  you,  with  calves  of  great  muscularit}-,  and  legs  finely 
formed,  only  .1  little  bowed,  owing  to  the  habit  of  fitting  on  their 
li, lunches,  in^te.id  of  on  chairs.  The  streets  lure  are  in  m.my 
localities  tlensely  packei.1,  ami  not  oxer  u  feet  witle.  Lan- 
terns hang  before  every  store.  People  carr\-  gay  lanterns  at 
niL^ht.  The)'  nunc  about  a  great  de.il  like  bees  about  a  hive. 
The  kurum.i  (ricki>ha)  men  moving  in  ami  out  among  these  add 
gre.itly  to  tlu-  ])icturesqueness  of  the  scene. 

There  are  in  \'okohama  over  4,000  and  in  Tokio  27,000  of 
tiiese  w.igoiis  under  license,  and  in  all  J.ipan  about  175.0OO. 
Thus  you  can  understand  how  imp(ntant  a  i)art  the  jinrickisha 
pla)s.  both  in  the  ecimomic  and  in  the  scenic  make-up  of  this 
str.inge  island.  It  is  not  generally  known  that  this  charming 
little  wagon  ma\'  bi;  considered  a  gift  ilirectly  from  heaven,  and 
that,  too.  through  the  intervention  of  an  American.  One  of  our 
mission. iries  at  N.ig.is.iki  having  a  wholesome  dislike  of  h.ird 
w, liking,  invented  the  thing  some  26  or  more  years  ago. 
His  Yankee  ingenuity  took  holil  upon  Jajianese  fancy  more 
(|uickly  than  did  his  theology.  The  thing  issupposeil  to  be  purely 
Jap.mese,  and  lias  been  to  some  extent  adopted  in  all  Eastern 
lands. 

You  have  often  as  children  playetl  at  housekeeping,  or  some 
other  mimic  ant!  lilliputian  make-believe  of  the  doings  of  grown- 
ii|)  people.  The  first  impression  maile  upon  me  of  a  Japanese 
city  was  th.it  the  people  were  plaj'ing  .it  running  a  town.  In  the 
native  cpiarters  of  Yokohama  ;ind  in  other  towns,  except  in  the 
jiublic-building  (piarters  of  Tokio,  the  streets  arc  mere  lanes 
in  width.  Thi-re  are  no  sidewalks.  The  houses  are  mostly  of  one 
story,  and  where  of  two  the  upper  story  is  very  low,  the  first 
;ib(uit  10  feet  and  the  other  not  over  iS.  They  arc  almost  exclu- 
sively of  wood,  ami  from  10  to  14  feet  in  width.  The  first  floor 
is  llush  with  the  street.  The  m.ijority  of  the  second  stories,  of 
pure  native  style,  arc  set  back  from  the  front  from  4  to  6  feet. 


I'll    •^' 


'■•■Mi      i  <  if\ 


■I  \.(i 


li 


^ 


■>  'I 


4,S 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


The  first  story  is  all  open,  the  second  closed  in  by  lattice  work. 
Glass  is  rarely  seen.  The  shop  is  simply  the  front  part  of  the  lower 
story.  First  conies  a  space  4  or  5  feet  wide  on  the  tjround  level, 
then  a  raised  platform,  say  from    i    to  2  feet  in  elevation,  and 

lore  feet.  On  this  is  the  work-shop  or  shop 


riiiin 


in-' back  S,  ro  or  n 


for  sale  of  i^oods.     Jk'hind  tiiis    for  livini;    pio'i 


noses   IS 


anotl 


ler 


sli.LjhtlN-  raised  portion,  runnm^j 

meet  the  re(iiiirenients,  or  in  accordance  w 


iii'f  back  a  greater  or  less  distance  to 


ith   the  m  -ans,  of  the 


o\\  ner, 
momen 


lere   are  no 


p.irtitions,  yet  the    house  can    in    a    fe 


w 


ts  be  divided  into  several  compartments. 


The  customer  or  visitor  stops  on  the  j^nound  level,  aiul  leaves 
liis  c1ol;s.  s.mdals,  or  shoes,  and  mounts  the  next  platform  in  his 
stocking's  or  bare  feet.  Tiiese  upjier  i)latforms  are  hi.i;hl>-  ])olisheiI 


.UK 


.1  part 


V  co\erec 


three  b\-  si.\  feet,  and  are 


1  witli  m.its.     .All   of  the   Litter  .ire  pr.iclic.dl)- 
the  unit  of  me.isureinent  of  floors  and 


w.dls.     For  ex.unple.a  room  is  so  many  mats  lar;^e.  The  polished 
floors  and  mats, ire  of  scruiJuloiis  cle.inliness.      1  lie  shoe  or  s.md.il 


is    ni)t    permitted   to    tre.id    upon  the 


m. 


Tin 


dealer  a 


nd    1 


ns 


cu 


tomcr  or  visitor  >it  or  scpKit  iijion  the  first   platform,  smoke  .1 


pipe  toijether,  a 


nd 


L'O 


th 


roue 


h  tl 


leu'  neL'o 


tiatioiis  or  ch.it.     'Ihe 


pipe,  by  the  way,  does  not  lu)ld  more  than  a  h.ilf-tliind)leful  of 
tt»bacco,  and  is'emptied  in  three  to  five  ])uffs.  (  )n  the  inner 
platforms  the  f.imily  reside.  As  I  said,  the  whole  is  open  wide  to 
tlie  street.  .\t  nii^ht  wooilen  shutters  .ue  put  up.  c!o>in.^r  the  first 
>hop.  These  are  sometimes  in  solid  wooden  p.mels.  but  more 
freiiuentlj-  of  lii;ht,  open  l.itlice-work.  The  iii)per  i)l.ittorms  are 
divided  into  smaller  compartments  by  putting'  uj)  panels  like 
window  sashes,  very  li.^ht  and  prettily  v.irnishecl.  On  one  side  of 
this  is  pasted  thin  paper,  liL^ht  and  tr.mslucint.  Tlu-e  p.uuls  sit 
or  slide  in  grooves.  Thus  a  house  of  sa\'  \2  by  J5,  feet  in.i)'  in  five 
minutes  be  made  into  four  or  five  separate  rooms.  The  shutters 
.uul  papered  p.mels  .ire  set  u|)  durin;^  the  d.iy  in  recesses  built  for 
the  purpose  in  the  outer  w.ills  of  the  house,  l-.ach  recess  h.is  in 
front  a  slidinij  duor.  which  closes  up  so  as  to  hide  it.  The  walls 
of  the  house  are  of  a  single  thickness  of  board,  on  which  lij^ht 
laths  of  bamboo  are  tacked,  ami  over  this  a  coat  of  pl.ister  is 
spreati.  AmoU'^  the  better  classes  this  i)laster  is  of  lime,  with 
picked  oakum  in  lieu  of  h.iir.  In  the  poorer  houses  it  is  of  imul 
and  str.iw.  The  coat  of  pl.ister  is  so  thin  that  the  whole  wall  is 
not  much  over  two  inches  thick,  luer)-  thini,'  about  a  hou->e 
is  deliciously  clean  in  a[)pearance,  but  there  is  no  ])rotecti(jn  for 
the  nose.  The  sense  of  smell  here  seems  to  be  proof  a<jainst  bad 
odors.  All  ni^ht  soil  is  preserved  .ind  sent  to  the  farms.  Tluisa 
traveller  too  often  catches  odors  which  are  not  by  .my  me.ms 
agreeable.  A  true  traveller,  however,  who  is  resolved  to  learn  and 
enjoy,  soon  finds  that  his  olfactories  rapidly  become  obtuse.  To 
any  who  c.innot  school  his  senses  and  is  m.ide  uncomfortable  by 
the  custom  of  ;i  peo|)le  visited,  my  .-idvice  is  to  pack  up  traps  and 
go  home,  where  he  can  be  master  of  the  situation. 


I 


Ff.y/    \rrcff.L\/cs. 


4» 


The  streets  being  so  narrow,  the  houses  so  small,  the  absence  of 
hcavv  teams  and  wagons,  tlic  people  all  engaged  in  uh.it  seems 
such  li^l't  work,  or  in  (.luin;^  heavy  work  in  such  a  small  way;  the 
masses  moving  back  and  forth,  the  swarm  of  men,  women,  and 
children  made  me  feel  th.it  I  was  among  thousands  of  peopi'  who 
were  i  iiLj.iged  in  a  g.inie  of  make-believe  playing  ;it  keeping  lown. 
Ihere  is  no  rush  ami  no  hurry,  exce])t  anmng  the  jinrickishas. 
The  merchant  is  as  deliber.ite  when  one  enters  to  m. ike  a  purchase 
.IS  is  the  cit\-  offici.il  where  the  modern  craze  for  civil-service 
reform  decei\es  the  wcll-me.iiiin;^  mugwump,  lie  iloes  not  seem 
111  c.iri  .in  iiU.i  wlutiier  you  purch.ise  or  not.  if  )'ou  bow  low.  he 
uill  return  \<iui  --.ilutation  Ijy  bringing  his  brow  almost  to  the 
lloor.  and  tlifti  u  ut  with  an  .iiii)ear.iiKe  of  p.itieiici-  which  would 
become  a  ni.m  who  e.vincted  ti>  riv.il  .Metiiuselah  in  lniigevity.  If 
you  wish  to  purch.ise  a  st.ipie  article,  he  has  one  price.  ,ind  docs 
not  seem  t<i  c.ire  a  b;u;bee  whether  \<ni  purchase  or  not.  If  )'ou 
be  a  curio  hunter  he  will  ask  for  his  old  bron/e.  lacquer,  or  ivory 
an  exorbitant  price,  and  is  not  a  whit  offended  if  you  otler  one 
third  of  wliat  lie  .isked.  If  \  ou  make  no  offer  .md  sl.irt  awa\'  he 
will  invite  \'ou  to  make  a  bid.  lb'  will  iKcl.in.  tli.U  the  thing  ..>st 
iiiiii  so  much,  tli.it  it  is  3lk)  or  i.ixx)  ye.irs  okl,  and  will  iiid  m 
t. iking  li.ilf  or  .1  tiiird  of  his  fir>t  deiii.ind,  .iiid  will  bow  to  the  lloor 
in  til, inks  for  your  ]).itronage.  Truthfulness  is  not  a  Japanese 
\irtiie.  His  (ir.ice  ,\rchbishop  Osouf  assured  iiie  that  it  coukl  be 
s.iid  the  m.isses  were  gre.it  li.irs.  .mil  that  ))oliteness  might  be  put 
down  .is  their  single  virtue.  Weill  it  is  a  virtue,  and  it  tells 
II  eveiy-d.iy  life,  .md  if  one  cannot  shut  lies  out  by  lock  uul  bolt, 
one  cm  .it  least  stuff  cotton  in  the  e.irs  ami  avoid  being  too  much 
olTended  by  the  vice,  while  enjo)ing  the  cheering  effect  of  what 
.ijipe.irs  to  be  genuine  politeness  aiul  good  will, 

rile  bip.mese  .ire  tine  meclianics.  and.  though  sjuw  and  delib- 
er.ite. d'>  their  work  witli  gre.it  precisii^n  and  with  e\(juisite  finisli. 
They  do  .ill  work  just  oppositely  to  our  mode,  if  it  were  possible 
they  would  commence  a  house  at  the  roof;  iiuleed.  it  may  be 
^,iid  this  is  often  done.  Tlie  ordinary  house  has  corner  stud- 
supports  ;  these  being  erected  the  roof  is  put  on.  ami  the  liouse  is 
then  built  under  and  up  to  it.  Tiiey  draw  tlie  pl.me  toward  them 
in^,tead  of  pusiiing  it  from  tliem.  ,ind  m.ike  glue-joints  for  tlie 
commonest  purposes.  They  m.ike  their  mortises  so  exact  that 
w.iter  c.mnot  creep  between  tlu-  joints.  They  use  the  saw  by 
cutting  tow.ird  the  iiand  in--te,id  of  from  it.  All  saws  are  very 
widi'  iind  have  a  straight  ii.mdlc.  and  yet  tliey  will  rip  a  plank 
fifteen  feet  long  so  exacti\'  and  truly  that  a  smoothing  plane  will 
dress  it  down  perfectly  str.iight.  I"'ew  n.iils  are  used  in  the  erec- 
tion of  houses.  Corner-stuiis  are  mortised  in  to  the  sills  so  closely 
lh.it  they  stand  as  if  nailed  .md  ijolted.  The  plates  are  luld  with 
e(|u.il  tightness.  The  siding  i--  then  set  into  grooves  cut  in  tlie 
studdings.     When  an  old  liouse  is  torn  down  its  material,  being 


^     >  ri 

^1 


il 


.;-<ii!4 


i'lh 


i 


11'' 


m 


m 


'I 


.AT'  hy  •• 


it 
Iff 


I", 

4i 


M 


m 

ii 


<rr 


5° 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  Sl'X. 


cons 


\V(i 


jrootl  timber  for  otlicr  purposes.     One 
sees  a  carpenter  ripping,'  up  an  olil  sill  or  post  for  new 


free  from  nails,  becomes 


tantly 
rk.     TIkiv  are  no  -aw-m 


size   is  rippei 
contractor  assu 


cu 

my: 

boar( 


.._ ills  to  speak  of.     Timber  of  the  Iar},'est 

1  bv  ini'-e  hand-saws  workid  !>>•  a  sin^He  man.     A 


^ ..reii  me  he  had  seen  a  io^^  '^w^   feet   tlinui-li  thus 

t.     He  was  a  .Scotchman,  and  theri-fore  told  me  tlu-  truth.     I 
saw  a  1<«^'  quite  three  feet  throu^'h  beinj,'  cut   into  incli 


.•If 


Ilu 


•IS  .ibout   ten   feet    1< 


•  ni 


ind    w.is   l.iid  on   a 


frame  at  an   obi'iciue  anj^ie.     The  sawyer  sat    under    it   .iiul  cut 


,'  any  of  the  bo.inU.     Timber  is  hewn  in  the 
r  oc'ta^'ons.      1  Ik ii   it  dries  |)erfectly,  ami  is 

^ t'into  b(Mrd-<  on  tlie  j^rouiul  where  the  house  is  beini; 

erected.     They  do  nice  work  in  wood,  but  are  slow.      i'luir  u  .i 


it  up  before  removin 

woods  into  s(ju.ires 
'emr.dh'  cu 


are  about  45  cen 


ts  a  dav.     When  I  use  the  term  dtillarand  cent  I 


pe.ik  of  the  Jap.mese  dollar  and  cent,  one  fi>urth  li's-^,  at  present 


v.iiue  o 


wou 


f  silver,  th.m  our  mone\ 


niericaiis  lure  as^uri'  me  they 


Id    prefer   paying'   our   wa;4e 


.md 


^'eltini,'    the    tlim^'    ilone 


promptly,  than  to  await  the  tlil.itor>-  movi'nient^  .1 


n.l 


ress  o 


f  the  ''ood  and  che.ip  n.itive  worknun. 


Tl 


ic  conimo 


tl  stonework  is  ver\'  (nu 


liere   is   no   sui 


iw  pn 
h  th 


IIIL' 


h  wall  on  a  n.itur.d  betl.     -Ml  stones  are  cut  and  set  in 


as  .1  roii;^ 

e.xact  joints  ;  not  in  1 

all  sh.ipes.     R.nuloin 


ine  work,  but  cut  to  fit  one  iijx)!!  .mother  ii 
rubble  is.  I   believi'.  the  technical  name  for 
this  stvle.     Brid^'es.  piers,  can. lis  and  mo.it  w.ills  ;ire  thus  built. 


an 
m 


In   Tnkio  there  are 


d  m.mj'  of  the  stones  are  of  ^jreat  si/i 

my  miles  of  w.iIN.  fnim  30  to  60  feet  hi;;h,  built  of  stones 
wei^hiii;.^'  from  lOO  pounds  up  to  sever.il  tons,  .md  all  with 
joints  so  nice  ;ind  true  th.it  no  cement  has  been  iised.;ind  none  is 
ncccs.sary.  It  i^  ,1  wonder  liowthe.se  poor  down-trodden  ])eoplL- 
have  clone  siu. 
help  them. 


h  v.ist  work  with  no  horses  and   no  m.icliiiierv  to 


.\1I   h 


iiiliiu',   or   nearlv   .ill.  is  done  bv  nun. 


I 


s.iw 


a  sinj^'le  man  ilrawin^'  or  pushing  a  load  (jf  near!)'  300  brick 
to  the  new  p.il.ice  ;it  Tokio  from  the  dock  over  a  mile  ;iway. 
At  the  castle  hill,    which    is  cpiite    100    feet    high,  several   nu 


assistetl 


It 


is. I  common  thini:  to  see  twi 


thre 


n 


e.   or   more   men 


pushing'  .1  load  such  as  a  heavy  dray  horse  would  draw  in  .\meiic.i. 
Two  would  be  at  the  shaft,  the  others  push.  They  step  to  a 
word  all  the  time.  The  shaft  m.m  would  utter  sonuthini;  like 
"  seough  "  :  the  others  would  c.itch  it  and  reply  together 
"seoughah."  During  the  d.iy  in  (juarters  where  iie.ivy  loac.s  are 
being  drawn,  or  iieavy  work  being  doiR-,  some  such  cr\'  as  this  is 
hearil  in  every  direction,  though  I  will  s.iy,  parenthetic  ill\-.  that 
one  of  the  charms  of  these  cities  is  the  absence  of  loud  and  ileaf- 
cning  noises.  All  great  cities  of  luirope  and  America  have  their 
voices.  One  can  almost  imagine  he  recognizes  .1  distinct,  peculiar 
voice  in  each.  In  the  still  of  the  night  it  is  m.irked,  and  never 
silent.  A  J.ipanese  city  after  \2  o'clock  seems  to  be  absolutely 
asleep.     Ther?  is  no  voice.     It  is  as  silent  as  the  country,  and 


1 

V- 

1 

1 

\ 

I 

yj 

hAi 

cmi.l^KI  X  AX/)   /.'.//.'//..S. 


5> 


if  one  awakes  in  tl»c  small  lioiir-^  he  iuars  no  sDund.  All  is 
IiusIjliI  aiul  (juict.  In  sunic  hn.ilitics,  luiwcvcr,  tlutc  arc  many 
trees.  In  tliese  lie  licars  the  luim  .md  son;,'  of  insects;  but  this  is 
the  voice  of  tlie  count r)-,  not  of  the  city. 

Kver\'  cla>-  of  people  seems  eii^a^jid  (I  mean  not  tlu  noble, 
but  tile  people),  and  all  a^es  ilo  their  share  towards  the  conunoii 
su[)port.  men.  women,  bo\s,  and  ^,'irls.  C'hildren  iiiuK  r  ten  .ire 
the  merriest,  iau^^hinijest.  busiest  little  bodies  im.ii^in.iljle.  One 
can  almost  pronounce  this  the  par.ulise  of  the  youn^'.  Tiny  arc 
in  .1  profusion  I  never  saw  elsewhere.  Ihe)'  are  as  thick  as  Hies, 
,iMtl  tlies  here  .ire  a>  .djundant  as  the  sands  ou  the  seashore. 
Children  are  in  the  shops  .md  stores  where  their  p.utnts  an-  at 
work.  Indeed,  •■lie  would  .dmost  think  that  in  llu'  finer  stores 
little  ones  arc  kept  tricked  out  in  lluir  nici->t  to  m.d<e  tin  places 
■ittr.ictive.  In  tlv.  streets  the)'  .ire  runniii;^,  skippin;^,  .md  jump- 
ing everywhere.  IJ.ibies  .ire  str.ipped  to  the  b.ick.-.  of  tin  ir 
mothers,  or  of  sisters  scarcely  l.ir^er  th.in  themselves.  One  often 
sees  ado/en  or  two  boys  .md  i^irls  undir  ten  at  all  sorts  of  play, 
one  h.ilf  of  them  h.ivin;,'  babie-^  on  tluir  b.icks.  ( )ftentimes  win  n 
the  little  niir>es  are  playing  n-^ul.ir  romps  the  liltie  ones  are 
sound  asleep,  their  he.uls  li.mLjinj^  tlown  .md  lloppini;  from  ^ide 
to  --itlc  as  if  their  little  necks  would  break. 

Hire  in  front  of  tlu-  luttel,  when  the  tide  w.is  out.  I  saw  hun- 
dreils  e.irly  one  morniuL;  SLikin;^  mussels,  mosses,  aud  sea-werd. 
Little  felhjws  not  o\ir  ten.  with  b.ibies  str.ipped  to  them,  were 
w.idin;.;  .ibiiut  i^.itlu  riii_^  shell  fish.  When  ll''\'  wouUl  stoop  on 
h.uuls  an<l  knee>  the  b.iby  would  .ilmost  stand  >n  its  he.id.  I  can 
say  I  h.ue  seen  hundreds  .mil  h.i\e  .is  \(  i  lu  ,ii<l  t)Ut  llir-e  babies 
cr)in;4. 

Little  ones  of  lu<i.ind  three  \ears  sonutimes  h.i\e  dolls  strapjjcil 
to  them.  Not  once  li.ive  I  seen  .i  doll  in  the  .irnis.  The  cliildnn 
.ire  nurses  to  a  ^re.iter  e.Ment  in  the  ciuintr\'  .md  in  vill.iL;es  th.m 
in  the  cities.  For  there  the  mothers  are  .it  work  in  the  fields. 
In  till-  cities,  where  .i  cert.iin  .imount  of  educ.ilion  is  ne.irly 
univers.il,  ciiiUlreii  o\er  six  \e.irs  old  are  ,it  school.  We  went 
to  .1  priv.ite  school  .it  I'okio.  Having  left  our  shoes  at  the 
entrance,  we  were  kindl)'  .md,  in  fact,  r.ither  proudl\-  received 
b)'  the  ti  .idler  .md  his  j^irl  .issist.mt.  In  one  room  some  y^ 
little  ones  were  stpi.ilted  down.  The  te.icher  liad  ui)om  .i  1)1. ick- 
board  ;i  translation  frcjin  one  of  our  Readers.  It  w.is  the  story 
of  a  little  boy  who  did  not  like  to  ^o  to  school,  but  preferred  to 
play  and  ride  the  dunkey,  ;it  le.ist  that  is  what  our  ^uiide  s.iid  it 
was.  I'arenthetic.ill)  ,  I  will  here  s.iy  we  h.ive  in  our  employ  the 
casiiier  of  a  wholesale  tea-house.  lie  is  a  Cliristi.in,  was  educa- 
ted at  the  mission  school,  spe.iks  j^ood  ICn^lish,  .md  is  intelli^'ent. 
lie  desired  a  iiolid.iy.  We  p.iy  him  §40  a  month  .mil  his  e.\- 
pensfs.  He  is  our  companion  as  well  .is^aiide.  Through  his  aid 
we  pet   far   more  information   than   we  wDuld  from   .m  ordinary 


mm 


i'.  < 


"i  4 


!) 


,1 


!t  • 


I     { 


!•  ( 


5,  A  RACi-  WITH  Tir:     r.y. 

uukk-  ulio  can  say  but  little  nu.rc  in  our  language  than  is  neces- 
sary tn  make  purchases,  r  to  carr>- one  to  places  of  interest. 
We  rarelv  look  into  a  -uide-book.  Hut  to  return  to  our  kinder- 
•  r  iricn  Tile  teacher  \Vouk!  read  a  sentence,  pointing  to  it.  the 
children  repeating  after  him.  He  did  thi.  for  a  while  in  short 
sentences,  and  then  went  over  the  wiiole.  In  perhaps  10  or  15 
minutes  the  httle  fellows  all  read  the  whole  story  aloud  without 
his  assistant  Tliev  read  and  recite  it  in  a  sort  of  chant.  Think 
of  it,  my  liti.-  Irieiids,  away  off  here  m  Japan,  where  30  years 
ago  no  foreigner,  except,  perhai)s.  a  Chinaman,  had  been  for  300 
years,  a  lot  of  little  boys  and  girls,  each  in  a  gown  little  more 
than  .1  shirt  or  ni^luiobe,  are  learning  the  same  lessons  taught 
you  in  the  public  schools. 

Hut  I  ■.usi)ect  it  will  interest  the  >-outhful  )et  more  to  tell  how 
these  little  fello'vs  learn  to  write.  In  one  room  was  a  writing- 
class.  They.  too.  were  small  one — -ome,  I  thought,  uiukr  six. 
The  t)rder  of  tlie  tenshi  (mikado  1  i>.  that  none  >-ounger  ih.in 
that  age  should  go  to  school,  but  their  parents  smuggle  them  in 
to  kee]i  them  'it  uf  mischief.  They  were  all  squatted  in  pairs  at 
.1  rough  ini.iru.  wliich  served  for  a  desk.  Euch  chikl  had  a  lot  of 
iGUinrse  oaper.  utrth  a  string  through  >>nc  end  of  the  sheets.  riii--- 
,i*i  J.  bwok.  Diiea,-  do  not  write  with  a  pen,  but  with  a  sm.ill 
ilMuwk..  like  a  waiEr-color  brush,  onl\-  rather  raiorc  pointed.  With 
diH-tthey  \v-rTti-..rawt  from  the  left  to  the  rrght  ;ind  on  the  ti.p  of 
tliu'pjiijaer.  bat  fln  tile  right  sitle  of  the  paper,  from  top  to  bot- 
Etjm.  Thcrr  jtfit^rs  resemb'e  ilie  chanictei^  seen  on  a  tea-chest. 
Till—  use  s.jfflif  4K  Chinese  diameters  with  their  own  letters. 
Tin  -■  -'i«gn^  e:OTTf*is  not  only  a  whole  word,  but  now  and  then 
-.liorr  -■fniiitenc:^-  It  was  funny  to  see  a  Ineginner  making  his  h-t- 
tisrs.  ••♦irar  iir*  "''w  eovered  the  iialf  •>{  his  sheet  with  oiu-  or 
two.      Thr    :  wfo-d   ,is  if  .1   web-t<xjtr(l   bird  or  a  cat   had 

steppird  ^^^m  Jair  mk  upon  the  copy.  .Vntl  one  toddler  hail 
ne.irl}  .is  lauch  aiik  «-ni  his  face  and  hand>  as  upon  his  ])aper. 
They  tlo  not  use  blorrtrrs  or  let  t;fa.e  fxiper  dry  :  their  writing 
paper  is  poroufi.  and   suicks  up  the  ink  as   fast  ;is   it   is  written. 

After  10  or  nz  y^  .irs  >'  age.  the  poorer  ciiikiren  do  their  sli.ire 
of  work  to  support  thtaiselves  and  their  families.  The\-  work  in 
the  fields  and  in  the  sainps,  anil  help  their  f.ithers  to  \>u\\  and 
push.  One  -^ees  a  l2-yT2irs-old  boy  at  an  o;ir,  doing  his  full  share 
ol  the  work  of  scuIHul  while  his  father  or  employer  jjushes  the 
other.  Parents  are  de-oted  to  their  children.  Obedience  .md 
assistance  are  demanded  of  the  latter  tu  their  p.irents.  If  a  111,111 
ilies  before  his  -on  is  of  age,  the  eldest  son  is  exempteil  from  mil- 
itary service,  because  he  must  take  care  of  liis  nuulier  .md 
j'ounger  brother-  .md  sisters.  In  the  evening  one  frequently 
sees  a  man  w.ilking  wiih  a  b.ib)-  in  his  arms.  He  is  resting  the 
mother,  or  letting  hi  r  prepare  the  evening  meal. 

In  this  cit\- there  I- a  popidation   of  al>oiit   140.000  ;  in  Tokio 


1<J.I.\D  MASSAGE  oriiRATOKS. 


53 


9 


about  1.300,000.  Wc  liavc  been  011  the  ^o  .ill  ilic  time,  atul  as 
yet  li.ive  not  .seen  a  single  begj,'ar  and  but  one  druriken  man,  al- 
though .saki,  a  sort  of  rice  brandy,  is  very  cheap.  I  nunt'oned 
this  fact  to  the  archl»ishop.  lie  laughed,  and  told  nie  that  when 
,1  J.ipanese  got  drunk  he  at  once  went  to  sleep.  Hy  the  way,  for 
the  benefit  of  those  who  met  tiie  good  bishoj)  when  he  w.is  in 
Chicago  in  l(S84.  1  will  say  I  called  upon  him  .ind  hail  a  very 
pleasant  evening  w  ith  him  and  Father  Magawine.  who  w.is  also 
in  Chicago.  I  bore  to  tiie  bisliop  ;i  letter  from  I'"atiier  Koles, 
and  was  charmingly  received  ,inil  pleasant!'/  ^ntert. lined.  The 
Catholic  Church  has  baptized  2,000  within  thi  past  year.  There 
are  over  35.000  coinmunicants  in  the  kingdom.  The  bishop 
feels  proud  of,  .ind  th.mkfu!  for.  tiie  success  of  his  65  priests. 
They  are  all  Frenchmen.  ;ind  are  from  the  Acadeni)  of  the 
.S.icred    Heart  in   Paris. 

1  said  there  were  no  beggars.  Kven  the  blind  here  support 
them.selves.  They  form  a  guild  of  massage  rubbers.  From 
dark  to  I2  o'clock  one  can  he.ir  their  fifes  on  the  streets  of  every 
town.  Knowing  who  the  p.ior  fellows  are,  tiieir  c.il!  has  a  very 
plaintive  souiul.  They  walk  the  streets  .ill  alone,  are  never  in 
(Linger  of  being  run  over,  and  ^eem  to  h;;ve  the  good-will  and 
.issistance  of  all  who  meet  them.  It  matters  nut  liow  hurried  a 
jinrickisha  m.m  be,  he  never  runs  .igainst  or  jostles  an  "  amina." 
They  eoine.  when  called,  intn  the  houses,  ;ind  rub  down  p.iticnls 
for  10  cents,  taking  from  30  to  4;  minutes  to  do  the  thing.  W'e 
li.ive  now  used  them  siver.il  tinu>,  after  a  heav\-  d.i)''s  work,  .md 
find  them  fully  e(iual  to  .my  ])rofes-ion,il  mas^age-oper.itor  we  have 
tried  at  home.  Indeeil.  I  like  them  better.  They  are  very  gentle 
■md  rapid  in  their  movements,  have  soft  h.uuls  and  ipiicken  the  cir- 
eiil.ition  witliout  bruising  or  u'ritating  the  surface.  Their  ^nsc 
of  touch  is  ,10  keen  tl.  1  they  seem  to  find  tlie  ])arts  of  the 
p.itient's  body  most  nei;ding  m.inipulatioii  I  h.id  a  slight  ,it- 
t.uk  of  sciatic...  I  could  not  speak  a  word  of  J.ipanese  to  tell 
tiie  "  .imm.i "  .\!i<ii'  I  wished  him  to  do  the  most  rubbing. 
^'et  he  found  it.  The  sciatic  trou!)le  passed  aw.i\'  in  .1  il,i\' or 
two.  leaving  .1  tenderius.;  in  the  small  of  the  back.  M\'  next 
".imm.i"  found  the  tender  spot  without  .1  word  fioni  nu-.  I'he 
sense  of  touch  told  them  where  the  .son,  ness  was  l.iid.  Would 
it  not  bi  a  good  tiling  to  teach  our  blind  to  perform  such 
duties,  thereby  making  them  self-sufporting  ,ind  far  happier? 
Nothing  so  conduces  to  h.i|)piness  as  a  feeling  of  iiulepeiideiui' ; 
.IS  the  knowledge  tli.it  we  cm  choose  our  own  p.itlis  and  fe.ir- 
lessK'  tr.i\el  them,  looking  to  (lod.  .md  our  own  powers  alone  for 
lielp.  While,  on  the  other  ii md.  .1  sense  of  helplessness  tiepresses 
,dio\e  .ill  thi;igs  else,  and  d(  presses  ,ill  the  more  when  tlie  sufferer 
is  conscifuis  of  no  bodilj-  p.iin.  I",\istence  then  becomes  ,1  spe- 
cics  of  continuous  nightmare.  Tli.mk  (\vA\  man  cm.  in  time, 
school  himself  iven  .ig.iinst  this  dre.ul  sorrow;  but.  oh,  tlu' .iL'/my 


'-   ^i.. 


■i 


#IK- 


4'    ? 


j5*» 


/f  RACE  WITH  TJU-   SUX. 


of  the  lesson  !  The  blind  arc,  of  all  plusically  well  men  and 
women,  tiie  most  liclples;;  ami  tlie  most  to  be  pitied.  God,  in 
his  infinite  goodness,  <,'enerally  leavens  their  hearts  with  sweet 
patience,  and  blesses  them  with  the  best  of  all  visual  powers — 
the  power  to  sec  the  green  j)astures,  the  llowery  meads,  the 
undul.iting  hills,  and  smiling  vallej-s  oi  the  •■ternal  world  to 
come.  Ikit  these  sweet  pictures  of  hope  would  be  none  the 
less  charming  if  the  poor,  sightless  beiiigs  were  taught  to  earn 
their  dail\-  bread.  This  is  (lone  in  iieathen  Japan,  and  should  be 
a  lesson  to  the  C"hristi,n:i  world.  t)f  coi'r^c,  in  America  their  fees 
should  be  in  keeping  with  the  general  prices  paid.  I  understand 
they  are  fairly  patronized  here,  and  earn  a  fair  livelihood.  I  sup- 
pose it  is  true,  for  at  a  village  I  sent  out  for  one.  He  c.ime  in, 
but  was  not  b'ind,  but  was  a  hale  man,  anc  a  samuri  in  rani;,  who 
had  adopted  ;he  blind  man's  .(vocation,  there  being  a  lack  (pf  the 
blind  in  that  locality.  The  s.mniri  were  the  military  and  half- 
noble  class  before  the  tenshi  (mikado)  broire  the  power  of  the 
.shogun  (tycoon),  .ind  stripped  the  daimiob  of  their  feudal  rank. 


I 
I 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

KIVKKS.  I  ARMS  AND   lAKMl  K^  ol    j  A  i'AN  — I  I   k  1  II  i;k  (  1 1  AkA(    TI-.R. 

iMH^oi   ii>  r!;()i  1  i;— 1 1  s  lioii-.is,  looii  am>  mowkks. 

///'<?(,'(',  Japan,  Octolnr  14,  1887. 

i  STAri:i>  Diicc  beforctli.it  my  letters  lionu-  wore  manifold  copies 
from  111)'  traveller's  book  of  the  impressions  maile  upon  me  by 
thing's  along  the  uaysitlc  as  we  run  rapidly  thrcnigh  a  country. 
Siicli  impressions  cannot  be  other  than  crude  and,  to  a  con- 
sideral)le  extent,  ill  digesteil.  lint  all  I  aim  .it  is  to  carr)'  along 
•  lie  re.ider  with  me,  and,  if  possible,  to  iiiable  him  to  see  what  wo 
see  and  to  enjo\  what  we  enjo)'.  If  I  m.ike  mistakes  I  can  only 
s.iy  I  do  not  aim  to,  and  the  mistakes  are  probably  wh.it  the 
reader  iiimself  would  h.ive  made  hail  he  been  the  tr.iveller.  In 
m\-  former  letter  from  this  strange  ci  untry,  in  \w\  I'udeavor  to 
cn.il)le  one  to  t.ike  a  bird's-eye  view  o'  J.ipan.  1  fe.ir  I  may  have 
misled.  I  st.ited  lh.it  it  was  wholi}-  of  volc.mic  origin,  and  that 
there  were  but  few  pl.iins,  and  those  of  small  extent.  I'\)r  the 
purpose  intended  /.  <•.,  to  m.ike  a  picture — the  statement  was 
proper.  (  )n  .1  toiiogr.ipiiical  m.ip  the  islands  w.)uld  tluis  appear. 
There  .ue,  liowevei.  in  the  f.ir  north  .and  the  far  south  stratified 
forin.itions  and  a  few  in  the  centr.il  portion,  but  these  latter  .ire 
of  nu't.iniorphic  rocks,  or  the  estu.iries  of  great  rivers.  Tiicrc  arc, 
too,  some  plains  which  are  of  consiiler.ible  extent,  eitlier  along 
the  sea-coast  or  in  the  river  vallej's.  Some  of  these  are  ten  to  fif- 
teen miles  across  near  tiie  sea.  n.irrowiiig  as  tiuy  run  back  until 
tliey  .ire  lost  in  the  mountains.  (  )ne  of  the  striking  features  of  the 
country  i-  the  great  number  <;f  rivers  and  tlifr  size  when  compared 
to  their  leMigth.  The  clim.ite  is  so  humid  .md  the  snow  .md  rain- 
fall in  the  winter  and  spring  so  great,  th.it  the  number  .md  size  of 
the  streams  are  u  holly  disproportionate  to  the  extent  of  the  coun- 
try drained,  as  conip.in-d  with  otlier  countries  one  visits.  Not 
only  is  the  rainf.ill  great,  but  tlie  dews  are  ver)-  heavy.  These 
things  make  .1  const. iiitly  moist  e.irth,  and  cause  streams  to 
aboun<l.  In  M.i>-  ami  June  the  volume  of  water  brought  to 
the  sea  by  the  rivers  is  very  great,  and  occasionally  causes  much 
destruction  by  inund.itions  when  some  of  the  restraining  djkes 
give  way.  It  may  safely  be  said,  I  think,  that  nearly  all  the  broad 
river  valleys  were  originally  .swamps  and  morasses.  Hut  huge 
dykes  varying  from  10  to  ^5   feet  in  height,  erected  at  enormous 

35 


I     i  .-*    > 


I      '  ,       ?»>       i«i 

'..   ..   /     'I 


i   .1  *  -I 


u   1 


A 


r'-vr- 


1' 


II  f.^ 


Mi 


S6 


,-/  A'.fc/-:  11777/  TJir.  svy. 


cost  of  labor,  confine  the  streams  to  moderate  ilinieiisions  and 
','ivo  the  country  the  bulk  of  its  arable  huul.  which  swarms  with 
a  dense  popul.itioii. 

We  arrived  at  this  place  late  this  afternoon.  \\  e  liave  now 
traverseil  in  jinrickishas  :;oo  miles  of  Japanese  roads  and  about 
lOO  miles  by  rail.  The  latter  we  passed  over— in  both  direction.s 
—at  a  speed  not  ^neater  than  iS  miles  per  hour.  In  other 
words,  we  have  moved  slowly  eiiou<;h  to  make  minute  observa- 
tions of  every  thin};  .seen.  We  have  been  a  month  in  the  country, 
and  all  the  time  anionic  its  people.  We  have  p.issed  tlirou},'h 
13  towns  and  cities,  with  populati^Il^  of   from    5,C)00  to    1.300,- 

000  and  tIirou5,'h  many  hamlets  and  villaf,u;s  of  300  or  400  peo- 
ple up  to  2.000  and  3,000.  We  have  passed  vast  acrca^a-  of  ciil- 
tixated  fieliis.  ami  seen  many  thousands  of  i)eople  en^aj^^-d  in 
their  daily  avocations.  We  have  slept  in  their  houses  and  eaten 
of  their  food.  We  have  seen  them  reikin<^^  in  sweat,  but  never 
in  ("ilth.  Wi'  have  seen  them  in  hilarious  mirth,  but  ne\er  once 
in  violent  ani;er.  We  h.ive  seen  them  in  their  nakedness,  but 
never  once  in  .my  tiling'  like  lewtlness.  We  h.ive  setn  them  in 
toilinj;  poverty,  but  have  uevtr  seen  a  sinj;le  look  of  sullennessor 
of  desi).ur.  We  have  seen  tluin  in  .abject  poverty  :  we  have  never 
.seen  tiiem  be.iji^in^  alms,  excipt  in  a  few  in>.t.inces  of  total  blind- 
ness and  decrepit  a;.je.  We  have  seen  them  in  every  wa\-  shocking' 
all  ])reconceived  ideas  of  decency  and  modesty,  yet  we  have  never 
noticed  a  sin<;le  look  or  e.\])res>ioii  which  would  show  tli.U  any 
one  was  aware  thini,'s  weri'  beini;  ilone  which  modotj-  would  for- 
bid. We  have  seen  children  without  .1  >t!tch  of  clothing  coxeriii}; 
them,  playing  with  children  i^otten  up  in  llu  ir  holid.iy  finery. 
We  have  >een  .1  iiKui  p.aise  from  his  work,  witli  only  a  h.md's 
breadth  of  cloth  .d)out  his  loin-,  and  t.ilk  w  ith  a  neighbor  in  his 
richest  visiting'  clothes,  .ind  tli';  n.ikul  m.in  wore  as  loft)-  .1  mien 
of  di;L;nit\'  .i-^  his  comj>anion  did  in  his  robes.  We  h.ive  met 
woiiu-n  in  till  highway  naked  down  to  the  hi|)s,  and  s.iw  no  look 
that  betokened  a  single  thouijht  of  >h.mie,  and  within  a  few  luin- 
dreil  yards  we  would  meet  a  be. luliful,  well-clothed  woman  whose 
eyes  would  drop  in  prttty  modesty  because  we  },Mve  lur  ,1  look  of 
invohint,ir\-  admir.ition.  There  is  here  no  such  tliiiiL;  ;i>  conven- 
tional decency  or  convention.il  modesty.  With  ,1  liij^h  civili/.i- 
tion— in  ni,in\-  re->])ecls  very  hiidi— the  people  -till  seini  to  be.  to 
a  cert.iin  extent,  in  a  state  fif  .mim.d  nature.  Is  the  con-cieiice 
scared,  or  has  conscience  nevir  been  .tu.ikened  by  a  sense  of  sin? 
The  psycholo^'ist  nui-t  solvi'  the  problrni  and  answer  the  (piery  ; 

1  can  not.  I  am  still  in  a  species  of  am.i.'.ement  amont;'  this  incon- 
sistent, this  ^'re.it,  this  little,  this  brit;hl,  yet  !.jrovellin;4  and,  to  a 
wistern  m.in.  immoral  peo]^le. 


E.ich 


1  \ear,  as  1  tjrow  okler. 


inu 


t  he  t. 


.f 


my 


more  and  more  strontrly  returninj^   to  me.     Hvirn   and   bred 


irm, 


I  find 


irl_\-  years 
on 


myself  n  ore  interested  in  a.L,'riciiltiir,d  pursuit 


aiK 


m 


m 


REChPTlO.X  AT  HOTEL. 


57 


productions,  than  in  the  works  of  groat  cities.  I  shall,  ii:  accord- 
ance witli  iliis  disposition,  lievote  some  of.my  writing  to  wh:it  we 
have  seen  and  shall  see  of  farming.  Hut  as  we  have  seen  this 
farming  not  by  going  upon  the  farm,  hut  in  i)assing  through  them. 
it  will  not  be  amiss  first  to  tell  how  we  travel  from  tlay  to  liay. 
I'"or  this  purpose,  imagine  us  four  luen  seated  in  pretty  little  co\  - 
ercd  two-wheeleil  siiring  cirts,  eacl;  man  witii  a  satchel  between 
his  feet,  and  each  cart  drawn  l)y  two  native,  nearly  naki'd.  men. 
We  approach  a  village  or  town  ;  ami  '  aviiig  two  pullers  they  dash 
through  it  at  a  tremendous  pace  with  a  cry  of  warning  now  to  a 
pedestrian,  tlu-n  to  a  street  vender,  or  to  the  drawer  of  another 
cart  ;  every  one  good-iiaturciily  gets  out  of  the  way  of  the  for- 
eigner and  gives  him  a  look  of  keen  curiosity,  never  one  of  ilis- 
courtesy.  Tiuj  children  stare  at  the  graj'-bearded  man,  and  per- 
haps crack  a  joke  at  his  expense.  The  Japanese  ari>  a  closely 
shaven  people,  ami  a  full  beard  attracts  attention  and  does  not,  I 
suspect,  win  any  admiration.  The  pretty  young  girls  give  a  look 
of  kinilly  interest  to  the  two  fair  j'oung  men  of  the  p.'rty,  ami 
they  both  look  conscious  of  deserving  it.  <  )n  we  dasii  at  not  far 
from  a  ten-miles-per-hour  gait.  Suddenly  the  shafts  </f  the  cart  an 
turned  into  a  little  Cf)urt  before  the  best  hotel  of  the  town.  '1  lie 
place  is  in  an  immediate  stir.  The  landlord  comes  forward  with  a 
bow,  or  rather  a  suecission  of  bows.  If  we  have  one  kuruina 
(wagon)  man  tlu-  landlord's  hands  reach  to  his  thighs  as  he  bi  ws. 
If  we  have  two  thev'go  beiow  the  knees. often  to  the  ankh^.a--  he 
bends  low  at  the  lii])s. 

Thi;  1. null. id)-  is  on  lur  knees  on  tlu  raised  plallorni  of  tiie 
house,  and  l)o\vs  till  her  forehe.id  nearly  touches  the  lloor.  Just 
!)(  hind  her  are  t\\<i  or  more  pleasant-looking,  and  sometinus  \(.-ry 
pretty,  handui. lids  (waiter  girls),  prettilx'  dressed  and  with  most 
el.ibor.itt'  eoiffuri'.  They  bow  as  does  the  mistress.  F.ver)-  stnig- 
gler  and  neighbor  stops  to  see  the  strangers.  We  gel  out  on  the 
ground-floor,  whiili  is,  in  f.iet,  but  an  extension  of  the  street,  .md 
p.ivcd  like  it  ;  our  luggage  is  t.d<en  in.  .in<l  we  at  once  take  off  our 
shoes  and  le.ive  them  on  this  floor.  In  our  stocking  feet,  o*"  half- 
slippers,  m.ide  ol  hairy  deerskin,  we  m^ount  the  raiseti  jJatH-nn  of 
the  housi-,  which  t^.  say,  two  .md  .i  'i.iif  feet  in  elev.ition.  and  is 
I>«autifull\'  polisluil.  .IS  smooth,  .is  .my  r.  iscwooii  juano,  Tiu-se 
fl'iors  Afcv  gener.illy  bl.ick  and  liiglily  l.u  (|U'  rrd.  A  shor.  s.md.il, 
or  ( ;og  is  never  .illowed  to  scr.itch  or  mar  them. 

( >ne  of  the  w.iitrcsses  at  onie  brings  .i  l.m|uered  tray,  on  wliieii 
is  a  small  teapot  and  four  linv  teacup-,  rin'^t  much  I.»rger  than  an 
egg-hol<U:r  \\''  t.M.h  drink  ilown  a  cup  <»f  \t-A^  Itt  is  ver^-weak: 
feot  wAf'X,  ««)t  l>»(Uing.  has  bi  en  poured  <«•«:»  the  tc.i  .ind  is  at 
aniH'e  p^hT'-H  /into  the  cups.  It  Has  at  hast  t'lm  nient  of  being  liot, 
arvi*!.  ti>«*];fU  ireak.  gives  forth  .i  delicitte  and  delicious  aroma. 

TIk-  wrhffl^  lower  floor  of  the  hotel  is  open  to  the  street,  leseTO- 
Minj!.  ;tn  inh^datted  sluil  rather  th.m  .i  house  or  system  of  rooms. 


\ 


Wl 


I    t'-' 


'    <( 


■  .:\ 


I 


If 


I  e.    I 


58 


/I  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


the  kitchens   fully  visible,   and    the    conkii\tj  apparatus   all    ex- 
1.     This  Inst  is  not  very  elaborate  in  small  inns,  consisting;  of 


posec 

a  stciie-  0 


r  earth-c<iv' red  hearth,  with  small  pit',  over  which  are 
two,  three,  or  four  tri])ods,  or  suspended  from  the  ceiling;  arc 
chains,  on  w 

WOO( 


liich  are  hung  the  pots.     The  fire  is  of  a  few  sticks  of 
1.  or  <if  c'larco.il  cnvi-red  over  with  ashes  when  not  used,  and 


quickl\-  hrou;;ht  to  .1  flame  In'  a   few  small  sticks  or  splinters 
such  (|'uickeiiiiii,^  of  the  fire  imnudiatel)-   follows  the  arrival  of  a 


trave 


Her.     In  the  l.ir^a-r  hotels  there  are  several  oviiilike  stoves, 

t    hv   a    funnel-like 


Tlicrc   is   no   chimney,   the    smoke  {,'oin},'    ou 
appar.itus  thniui;h  an  ajjcrture  above. 

\\'e  are  then  ennilueted  up  a  verj-  steep  ■-t.iirw.i)-  of  perfectly 
polisheil  boards.  We  jiass  aloijj;  a  sort  of  upper  porch  or  long 
gallerw  .ind  ari'  shown  our  r(H*r«»s,  or.  r.ither.  ro».)m,  with  a  sort  of 
p.irtitioM  ,ibo\e  hanj;ing  down  one  or  more  feet.  Iktwi'en  this 
iiaiii^in;^  |  rtititui  aiul  groovi.-s  in  the  floor,  light,  pajjer-eoveri'ii 
panels  can.  in  ;i  eou;>le  of  minutes,  be  inserted,  so  as  to  <livide  the 
one  big  room  into  iwn,  three,  or  more  smaller  rooms,  ;is  the 
exii'eni  \'  ma\'  demand.      The  floors  of  rooms  are  .ill  co\'ered  with 


while,  innnaculateK-cle.in  ui.ittin' 


Tl 


K  re  are  110  tables,  t  hairs, 


or  beds. 


"wo    w.iiter-girls 


briiu 


in    four    cusliions 


W 


.'lie 


four,  our  guitle  travelling  with  us  .is  01, r  <  .pial.  lie  is  intelligent 
and  a  C'hristi.m.  edue.ited  by  l)r.  Hepburn,  the  Jap.mese  schol.ir. 
A  small  l.icipier  platter,  with  a  little  bra/ier.  is  set  before  u-.  It 
cont.iins  what  would  seem  Tf»  be  .1  smooth  mass  of  fine  .ishes. 
Hidden  in  the  .ishes  are  .1  krw  pieces  of  burning  charcoal  for  us 
to  light  our  pipes  from.  Then  ,1  fresh  pot  of  ti;i  is  ser\i'd.  .Shaw 
(our  guide)  gois  t<i  the  kitchen  to  show  tlu'iii  how  to  boil  an  v\jc 


and  to  fr\-  ,1  fish.     Wrv 


prttt)'  w.iitresses  l)ring  ill  four  tra\'s  with   t 


soon   our  supper  is   re.uly.  and    oiii    tv^o 


couple  o 


f  boile( 


iiid   |)ieees  o 


f   fisl 


W(i   covrnd 


1   on   e.icii   tr.iv, 


now  Is,  a 
In  one 


bowl  is  a  sort  of  veget.ible  soup:   it  is  m.ule  of  t.irro,  mushroom^ 

a  piece  of  radish,  <ind  a  h.ilf-do/en  otiu  r  odd  ingredients,  w  liicli  a 

Jap.mese  can  enjoy,  but   which   .111   American   sw.illows  oiil\    to 

le  n.itivescook  almost  exclusivel\-  b\ 


w.inl  o 


ff 


'rim  st.irvation. 


T 


boiling,     in  the  other  bowl  is  .1  souj).  the  main  ingredient  of  which 
is  .1  half-cooked  piece  of  fish.    One  girl  h.is  a  l.irge.  covered,  l.ic(juer 


3o,\,  'lolilmir 


iliout  a  peck.     This  is   filled  with   hot 


nee, 


She 
e\'  are 


.scpiats  beside   it,  and   replenislK's  our  bowls  as   fast   as  th 
emi)tied.     We  eat  our  boiled  I'ggs.      I'.veii  ,1  native  |.i|).inesr  i  00k 
has  not  )'et  found  how  to  get  ;in\-  odd-tasting  tl 


g  tiling;  inside  of  .1 


unbroken  egg-shell.     \\\'  e.it  our  fish,  and  do   justice  to  tl 


n 


Terh, 
butt 


i])s  we  have  brought   with 


lo.if  of  bre.id   and  a 


le  \\^:i.- 
cm  o' 


er.     This  heljis  out  am.i/ingl)-.     W".-  jiojitely  pntend  to  sw.il- 


low  a  bowl  of  SOU]);  Shaw    helps'  to  gi  i 

besides  his  own.      He  declares  it  deliciou:- 

ing  grace  can  w  ipe  out  the  sin  of  such  ;i  fib.     ( )ur  sujiper  is  ended 

Kvery  thing  is  cleared  away.     If  either  of  us  has  dropped  a  grain 


.iw.i\'  with  one  or  two, 
( )nly  sovereign-reign- 


H 


HATtriXa  VXDER  niFFICVl.Tir.S. 


59 


of  lice  on  the  mat  one  of  the  girls  picks  it  up  witli  the  daintiest 
of  fingers. 

Then  comes  in  ;i  ni;ui  with  ;i  liuge  pile  of  "  futtms,"  a  sort  of 
thick  wadded  comforter.  TIksc  are  doubled  and  spread  upon  the 
floor,  one  in  each  conip.utnient.  fornn'ii  by  the  separating  grooves 
in  the  lloor.  Sonutinies  the)  bring  slucts,  but  very  rarely.  A 
Japanese  robe,  fresh  and  clean,  is  served,  however,  for  each  guest. 
We  cannot  sleep  on  wooden  pillows,  so  a  comforter  is  foliled 
across  the  heatl  of  the  betl  for  a  pillow.  li)'  the  way,  the  Jap 
uses  a  small  rounded  pillow  of  wood,  about  ten  iiulu-s  long  and 
live  to  si.\  inches  high,  with  a  depression  into  which  the  back  of 
the  head  and  the  nape  <if  the  neck  fits  and  rests.  This  prevents 
the  necessity  of  re-tlressing  the  hair  each  day.  Women  now,  ,uul 
men  formerly  diil,  git  \\\^  a  ve'.y  clabor.ite  coiffure,  which  lasts  for 
several  daj's,  if  not  weeks.  It  takes  several  hours  to  get  into  i)er- 
fect  form  the  heav)-  tresses  ()f  the  women.  Travellers  frecpiently 
git  into  romps  with  the  hotel  girls.  The  care  with  whicii  the 
latter  gu.ird  their  heads  is  amusing. 

Tiien  the  girls  tell  us  the  bath  is  ready,  W'c  each  undress  and 
put  on  .1.  robe.  A  girl  to  each  of  us  shows  us  ti>  the  bath-rooms. 
These  are  down-stairs,  and  h.ive  only  an  open  Japanese  screen  to 
shut  off  till'  ga/e  of  the  habitues  of  the  house.  The  tub  is  a 
round  woodi'ii  \.it,  about  four  feit  ilei'p.  \'ou  put  )i)ur  foot  in 
to  try  the  tempiTature.  Vou  nearly  shriek.  The  girl  l.uighs,  .md 
empties  a  pail  of  eold  w.iter  in.  \'ou  tinn  wait  for  iier  to  go  out. 
.she  doi's  not  butige.  \'ou  ean't,  to  sa\e  )'ou,  think  of  J.ipanese 
eiiougii  to  tell  her  to  go.  I""in.dly,  1)\'  a  lot  of  awkward  •^i'^ns,  you 
get  her  beyond  tlie  screen,  but  not  .m  inch  farther.  There  she 
st.inds  and  w.iits,  .is  innociiitl)"  .is  did  good  old  I'.ve  when  Adam 
]Mured  into  her  willing  e.irs  his  first  declaration  of  undoing  atfec- 
liou.  riure  .ire  things  as  well  as  times  that  tr\'  men's  souls,  and 
call  for  heroic  courage.  ( )ne  cm  scale  the  bristling  wall,  can 
ni.irch  into  the  mouth  of  ,i  hot-lliroated  cannon,  car.  mount  the 
scaffold  with  tile  ■-hilling  axe  glistening  in  the  >nn,  cm  tell  the 
girl  he  loves  how  he  would  win  and  ucir  her.  cm  make  a  maiden 
s|)t.-cch  in  the  House  of  Kepresent.it  i\  es,  !)ut  these  are  e,is\-  t.isks 
compared  to  that  of  getting  int<i  .i  hot  b.ith  with  a  pretty  Jajjan- 
esf  girl  looking  at  you  thr(nigh  .i  r.itt.m  screen  -looking  .it  }ou, 
too,  with  .IS  much  Sdiij^Odii/  :\<.  if  she  were  seeing  .i  threeinonths- 
old  b.ii>y  stripped  of  its  little  fl.innel  shirt.  I'inaily  patience 
gives  out.  you  droj)  your  mbe  .md  jump  in.  (iood  heavens! 
the  pail  of  cold  w.iter  did  cool  the  thing,  but  the  furnace  at 
the  bottom  of  the  tub  is  still  adding  ciloric.  \'ou  feel  much 
■is  did  the  poor  J.ipanese  m.irt)'rs  when,  .i  few  huiulred  ye.irs 
.ago,  the  he.ithen  wretches  boiled  them  into  grease.  ^'ou 
forget  the  girl  and  ever)-  thing  else,  .and  jump  out  thoroughly 
clothed.  /.  (■..  in  scirlel  skin.  The  i)rett\-  girl's  music! 
laugh  rings  in  your  ears,  .md   her  soft  mellow  eves  take   it;  the 


Llli-    '   il 


i 


I 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


60 

luic  of  your  lialf-boilcd  carcass.     All.  tlicsc  arc  things  which  try 

men's  souls! 

After  the  batii.  p.irtitioiis  arc  drawn  between  tlic  several  com- 
partments, and  we  lie  down  to  sleei).  The  partitions  are  a  sort  of 
very  liL'ht  sash,  fitting'  into  the  j,'roovcs  above  and  below.  In  lieu 
of  Ldass,  these  sashes  are  glazed  with  translucent,  thin  paper,  and 
are  so  e'asil\-  .idjusted  that  the  ^''1^  i"i''<i-'  f""""  rooms  in  as  many 
niimites.  \Ve  i,'et  into  a  doze.  Then  we  hear  a  noise  as  if  two 
or  three  frei^iit  trains  were  beinj,'  switched  on  the  lloor.  The 
outside  wooden  screens  which  close  the  house  are  bein^j  put  in 
around  the  balconv.  I  said  the  house  is  open  on  all  sides,  but  at 
bedtime  it  is  all  sluit  wy  by  me.ms  of  slidint;  screens,  which  liuriuj,' 
the  day  are  hidden  in  niches  in  the  wall.  Wy  this  time  we  begin 
to  itch!   The\'  say  fleas  .ibound  in  J;i|).in.    I  have  not  seen  .isingle 


one. 


Ihit.  when  w.ikeful,  imaj^'in.ition  or  re.di^v  has  made  them 
;il>nii»  mr  ill  reckless  reduiuiaiicv.     At  !     .  We  ^et  to  sleep, 


crawl  about  me  in  reckless  reduiidancv 
and  early  the  next  morning  take  our  breakfast.— about  the  s.uue 
thint,'  as'thc  supper,  with  the  addition  of  large  bowls  of  tea  pre- 
pared, under  Shaw's  supervision,  in  I'.urope.m  stjle.  \Vi'  pay  our 
bill,  ant!  iiere  comes  in, i  sini^ul.ir  fe.iture  in  J.iii.mese  hotel  science. 
One  ni^ht  our  bill  will  be  three  yen,  the  next  night,  in  exactly  the 
same  sort  of  house,  the  same  accommod.itions  will  cost  us  six  or 
seven.  I  suppose  the  size  of  our  bills  vary  with  the  elasticity 
of  conscience  possessed  by  the  several  l.uidlords.  All.  however, 
are  che.ip  compared  with  American  charges,  never  as  much  as  a 
dollar  and  three  (piarters  for  two  meals  and   lodging.     Our  ji 


kish.is  are  reaih',  for  ve  en'M^ed  them  the  night   bifon 


ric 
men  w 


Tl 


hob 


rou' 


^ht 


r'tiun    o\er  the   ro.ul.  .iiul  r.irel)' i'\er  c< 


tinue  with  us  '.!;e  seeoiul  d.i y.     We  d.ish   out  of  town   to  ne 
perii'nc  s  ,is  we  hurry  along. 


le 
m- 


w  ix- 


I  s.iid  th.it  the  people  in  cities  scom  t( 


pl.ijing  at  running  .1 


towr..     One  feels  the  same  way  about  the  farmers.      I'A'ery  thi 


IS  on  such  a  small  scale,  ;uu 


n 


1   is  carrieil  on  with  such 


wondei 


ful 
iceness,  that  one  can  scarcely  re.dize  that  farming  here  is  not  for 
amusement,  but  i>  the  business  of  life,  .ind  .1  very  e.uiust  .ind  li.ird 
business  at  th.it.  There  ,ire  no  such  things  .is  farm-houses:  .ill 
live  in  villages  or  towns.  There  are  no  such  things  as  Ijarns  or 
out-houses  in  which  to  store  cro])s.  M.my  f.irms  are  of  one  ,icre 
in  size,  and  very  few  of  ten. 

( )n  one  of  these  little  holdinsjs  the  farmer  will  have  his  rice  field 


and  a  dozen  other  cro]i^ 
Althou<! 


It  r.iiiis  s( 


Evervwhere  the  re  are  irri'Mtint'  ditch 


fiek 
b)-  irrigation, 
nuicli,  no  one  relii's  on   natunil  w.itirin'.;s. 

.ich 


I- 


very  thing  is   grown 


The  little  fields  .in 


perfectly  level.  A  farm  of  two  or  three  acres  will  have  .1  half- 
dozen  levels.  In  the  fl.it  v.illeys  they  all  appear  ne.irly  the  s.ime, 
but  in  the  u|)1kt  valleys,  ,ind  on  rolling  ground,  or  on  the  iiill  or 
mount. lin  sides,  each  field  is  .i  terr.ice  to  itself.  In  the  latter  they 
are  of  all  shapes,  often  onl_\-  .1  half-dozen  feet  wide,  zig-zag,  rouiul- 


I.  i  ■ 


J  A  I' A  M.SE  FA  R.MIXG. 


6i 


iny,  and  in  every  imaginable  shape  to  suit  the  configuration  of  the 
land,  so  that  each  is  perfectly  level,  ami  will  hold  water.  Thi- 
water  irrigating  one  field  drops  tlown  to  irrigate  those  below. 

The  farms  all  look  like  small  market  gardens  near  our  cities. 
The  plow  is  useil  only  in  a  few  localities,  and  then  not  for  loosen- 
ing the  soil,  but  to  tlirow  up  beils.  \Vc  have  so  far  not  seen  a  half 
ilozen,  and  only  near  Kobe.  All  grounil  is  dug  anti  perfectly  pre- 
pared. The  spade  and  fork  arc-  unknown,  but  si)ade-like  and  fork- 
like hoes  are  wiekleil,  as  with  us  one  uses  the  ordinary  hoe.  Not 
,1  weetl  is  ever  seen,  and  not  a  foot  of  grouml  is  w.isted.  Hetwien 
the  rice  patches  the  little  ridges  which  confine  the  llooding  waters 
are  planted  with  peas  or  st)me  other  crop.  The  land  is  all  double 
cropped.  In  May  the  wheat  and  bark)-  is  h.irvested.  Immedi- 
atel)'  follows  rice,  corn,  millet,  or  root  crops.  One  sees  rice,  sweet 
potatoes,  egg-pl.uU,  millet  of  several  varieties,  turnips,  carrots, 
tarro,  beans,  cotton,  lilies,  sipiash,  sesamum,  maize  or  Iniliancorn, 
biukwheat,  hemp,  flax  for  white  conlage.  sugar  cane,  dishrag 
pl.mt.  tea  plant,  indigo,  mulberry,  pe,u'  trees,  and  many  other 
v.irieties  of  food  crops  side  by  siile  in  little  tiny  fields  and  in  .dl 
stages  of  m.iturits',  ami  all  of  these  on  farms  of  from  one  to  ten 
acres.  In  the  large  low-l\iiig  river  valleys  the  rice  fields  are  ap- 
]).irentl\  of  con^iiderable  extent,  but  on  close  obser\Mtioii  oiu:  sees 
tli.it  v\k:\\  here  few  fielils  are  much  over  one  eighth  of  .m  acre  in 
si/.e,  but  all  being  on  a  common  level  present  the  appearance  of 
one  of  a  few  large  fields.  In  one  localit)'  we  saw  te.i  plantations 
of  several  .icies,  the  possessions  of  .i  single  man,  but  these  are  ex- 
ceptional. We  s.iw  rice  being  harvested  near  Tokiu  a  month  ago, 
,ind  >'et  even  in  this  locality,  where  it  is  warmer,  the  bulk  of  the 
crop  is  not  yet  ready  for  the  sickle.  October  is  the  regtil.ir  har- 
\est  month  for  this  >l,iple.  It  is ///<•  crop  of  the  country,  i-'oniier- 
ly  .ill  rents  .iml  all  taxes  were  paid  in  rice.  A  rich  man's  income 
w.is  s|)oken  of  as  so  mail)-  sacks  of  rice.  ;\ll  lands  belong  to  the 
go\ernnie!it.  I'mler  the  new  and  better  s)-stem  of  government  all 
nut-,  .iiul  ta.xes  are  now  paid  in  nione)-.  h'ormerly  a  comparativel)' 
few  Daimios  held  the  entire  country  in  fief,  paying  to  the  govern- 
ment so  man)'  sacks  of  rice.  They  let  the  lands  to  the  tenants, 
tithing  iveiy  thing,  ami  virtually  owned  the  masses.  The  Daimios 
are  now  .i  thing  of  the  past,  .ind  teii.ints  p.iy  fixed  rents  to  persons 
who  rent  from  the  government  tracts  of  greater  or  less  si/.e.  The 
f.irmer  now,  although  he  is  bowcil  down  in  abject  poxirtw  neither 
feels  like  nor  li.is  the  air  of  a  sl.ive. 

L.mds  ,ire  fertilized  to  some  extent  b\'  applications  of  solid 
manures,  but  the  gre.it  tlepciidence  is  u])on  a  li(iuid  form.  IC\ery 
thing  is  saved  th.it  cm  be  made  to  emich  the  crop;  ,il|  night  soil 
is  carefully  preserved.  Conveniences  are  erected  along  the  high- 
ways and  byways,  so  as  to  prevent  any  waste.  Coarse  grass  and 
refuse  straw  is  burnt,  and  the  ,islu-s  mixed  in  the  vats.  Deep 
holes  are  .sometimes  simply  ilug  in  the  ground,  but  more  giner- 


'  1 


'     1v- 


i  ;  I 


r  .; 


'I 


M 


■.r> 

i  It ; 


.1' 


■> 


6i 


A  RACE  WITH  Till.  Sl'X. 


ally  pits,  w.illid  uitli  stoiu'  or  umxl.  arc  sunken  near  every  field. 
Into  tlii^  the  manure  in  li(|uiii  form  is  (lei)ositetl  to  rijjcn  and  per- 
feet  itself.  Men.  l)o\s,  and  women  then  carry  it  in  p.dls  on  the 
two  ends  of  a  bearini;  p<ile  to  the  fields,  and  with  it  water  tlic 
rjrowinj;  cro|)s.  When  one  mii  ts  one  of  these  liipiid  manure  car- 
riers on  the  ro.id  it  is  s.ife  to  hold  one's  no-.c  until  the  uiiuh^.ird 
has  been  ^^lineil.  Women  and  nun  on  their  knees  weed  the  fields 
as  at  home  \\v  weed  .i  tin)'  llowir-bt d. 

As  one  crop  i)e^iiis  io  ri|)en  some  other  crop  is  pl.mted  be- 
tween t  lie  rows,  so  as  to  ^'et  a  j,'ood  start  before  the  outj^oin^; 
one  ha-  been  removed.  I'".ven  the  tea  plant.itiuns.  when  c(>n-i>t- 
in^'  of  Ninall  plants.  lia\e  turnips,  carrots, .md  other  crops  pl.mteil 
betwee'n  the  rows.is soon  as  the  Jul\  picking' is  finislud.  The  peo- 
pleseem  to  be  wonderfidlveducati  d  a>  to  the  rot.ition  of  tlu'  crops, 
and  l.md  u  Inch  h. IS  been  in  cultivation  for  man)-  centuries  )et 
proiluces  marvellously  l.iri;e  crop  return-.  Thi->  ye.ir  the  people 
will  be  well  off.  The  rice  crop  is  saiil  to  be  .dniost  unprece- 
dented in  the  yield.  This  i-  the  one  ^reat  food  crop  for  the 
|.i]).in<-i-.  Rice,  li-h,  and  root.-,  they  live  on;  nie.it  tlu-\-  r.irely 
ever  t.i-te.  They  ".it  the  rool>  of  si'veral  of  the  lilies  which, 
in  America,  are  ijrown  for  orn.unent.ition.  The  waterddy  ami 
the  lotus  is  cultiv.itetl  to  .i  i^reat  e.vteiit.  where  the  l.imU  .ire 
low,  ,ind  c.imiot  be  ilraimd,  not  for  the  llowcr,  but  for  fooil. 
The  i)opul,ition  of  J.ipan  i- .ibout  37,tx)0,orK).ind  is  siij)pc,ited  on 
I  I.J^S.txx)  .an- of  cultivated  kinds,  or  about  \z  pir  cent,  nt  the 
wholi  an  .1  of  the  empiri',  and  exported,  last  Ve.ir.  of  the  products 
of  tlu-e  .icres,  §2i.cxxj,(XX)  of  silk,  SlS,cxx).cxX)  of  te.i-.  .md  nearly 
$_;,5ao.cKX)  of  rice.  The  ex])ort  of  the  l.i-t  i-  .iliiio-t.  if  not  cn- 
tirelv.  tnChin.i.  Of  luTte. is  exported,  nearly  SiS.ocxJ.ucx)  went  to 
the  United  States. 

Rice  is  all  tr.ins|)l,intcd  by  hand  in  row  -  from  five  to  ten  inches 
apart,  .md  in  exact  cluiks.  The  people  cert.iinl\-  destr\e  much 
for  tlieii'  UDtidt  ifu!  induslr\',  .md  n.iture  h.is  betii  \'ery  l.ivi-h  in 
her  favor-.  The  w.iters  h.ive  .i  boundles.-  -ui)pl\-  of  fi-h.  l'"i-h 
.ind  rice  may  be  saiil  to  be  the  food  of  tile  pei>ple.  .md  >  el  the 
bountiful  oce.m  not  only  supi)lies  her  sh.tre  of  the  food,  but  sup- 
plies also  a  lar^'e  amount  of  the  manure  which  enriches  the  soil 
to  produce  so  abundantly.  I'"ish  for  this  purpo.-e  arc  c.irried  to 
cpiite  lon^  distances  into  the  interior. 

riu'  fort -ts  of  the  mount. lins,  too.  ,ire  \'er)'  bountiful  of  nuts. 
The  chestnut  is  ,ibund.inl  .uul  of  <^re;it  si/.e.  In  all  books  I  li.ive 
read  of  this  country  the  area  of  tlie  isl.mds  composing  tiie  em- 
pire h.i-  been  fixed  .it  ne.irly  I  70,0)0 -([u.ire  miles.  In  .1  book  of 
statistics  published  May,  1SS7,  b\-  the  ^'overnnunt.  the  are.i  of 
all  the  isl.mds  having'  ;in  area  of  one  vi — there  are  1  1  _'  of  these — 
is  fixed  at  24,704  vi.  This  would  ;.;ivc  an  area  of  from  144.CXX) 
to  155,000  s(]iiare  miles,  or  in  the  neii^hborhood  of  90.ctoo.ooo 
acres,  or  two  and   two   third   times  the  are.i   of   Illinois.      About 


y.\ r.ixi.si   11. on  a a'.v. 


«3 


80.000,000  of  these  acres  are  waste  or  forest,  and  do  not  t  \iii 
^'r.ize  c.ittle  of  any  kinil.  Huildlii->ni  lias  discDur.ii^ed  tlie  e.itin^ 
of  aiiini.d  food.  TIic  acorns  of  tlic  fon^t  would  feid  nuilit)ns  of 
lion's  and  >it  no  ho^'s  are  i,'ro\vn.  I'lie  j^rasses  on  many  of  the 
hills  woidil  feed  millions  of  cattle,  yet  tlurc  are  not  2.000,000 
of  horned  c.ittle  in  the  whole  empire.  Tlu-  ordin.ir)' native  j^'rass 
is  .1  sort  of  l).iml)oo  ;4r.iss,  with  .1  >h.iri),  h.ird,  serrated  i'(ii;f,  .md 
which,  it  is  said,  cut  the  entr.iils  of  horses  and  shet|). 

When  one  considers  all  of  these  thin^^'s.  -  this  wondi  rfullv  re- 
dund.mt  population  of  poor  .iiul  overtaxed,  yi't  h.ippy,  briL;iit 
people,  supported  >>n  I  l,cx.)i),ooo  .icres,  or  less  th.m  .m  eiL;hth  of 
the  area  of  their  country,  -cm  one  wondir  that  a  rellectin^f  m.m 
is  in  a  sort  of  d.i/.e  while  lure  ? 

There  are  no  st.irvelin<^s  in  J.ip.m.  Th'.'  children  .ire  .is  f.it  ,md 
jolly  as  curlyt.iiliil  pii,'^  :  the  yoiiii:;  l.uU  and  ^iris  L;ive  no  evi 
denci-  of  not  havin;^  enouL;h  to  i.it.  They  are  all  roiiiuled  in 
foi  in  .iiiil  litiie  in  .iction,  and  the  men  ,ind  l)o)'s  .ire  c.ipahle  of 
iiidurin;4  .ictive  lahor  anil  f.ifi;^ue  as  few  otiicrs  can.  The)'  an: 
|)os-,il)ly  not  a>  nui^cul.ir  .i«.  our  me.it-iMtiii'r,'  nun,  hut  not  .1  d.iy 
p.isses  that  1  do  not  sec  some  m.m  whose  nuiscul.ir  dr\(  loj)inent 
is  a  source  of  .idmir.ition.  .md  otheis  whose  j)owir^  n|  mdui.ince 
are  simpl>"  m.irvellous.  Two  nun  on  .1  f.iir  ro.ul  will  pull  .1  lu-,iv\' 
m.m  4'J  miles  in  ei^ht  hours.  A  i^cntlem.m  assured  nu'  th.ii  a 
single  pair  h. id  dr.iwn  him  46.  He  wei^'hed  fully  17;  p(Uin(ls. 
It  is  true  the  ro.ul  was  on  .1  r.ither  ilownward  ^'r.ide.  The  most 
of  these  men  are  born  upon  .md  re.ired  on  farm--.  1  will  touch 
upon  one  more  ch.ir.icteri-<tic  of  the  farmers.  1  refir  to  his  use 
of  llowcrs.  ,\lthoii^h  iu-  lives  in  .1  ho\(l  which  is  house,  h.irn, 
u(ukshop,  aiul  chickendion^e  ;ill  combined,  yet  oiU' will  find  close 
!))•  the  door  of  his  dirtlloored  hut  m.irvels  of  flowers.  Such 
coxcombs,  foli.iL;e  pl.mts,  m.ir.^nierites,  iister^  .md  cluys.intlu'- 
miims  are  mver  seen  m  Anu-ric.i,  exci-])t  when  ^.^rown  l)\-  ,1  pro- 
fessional tlorist.  lie  h.is  no  rej^ul.ir  llower-f^.irden,  he  is  too  poor 
for  th.it,  and  -^'r-iin  L;rows  .ihnost  up  to  the  thn'shold  of  his  iloor. 
lUit  he  will  h.ive  .1  few  i)l.ints  stuck  in  odd  pl.icis,  .ilw.ixs  |)erfect 
in  form,  lar;[e  in  si/e,  .md  of  m.irvellous  coloriiv^rs. 

I  lere  permit  me  to  .iild  ,1  speci.il  line  .is  to  t  he  chrys.intheinum. 
the  n.itiou.il  llower  .iiul  formins^  the  crest  of  the  mik.ulo.  There 
are  man)'  \  .irieties.  The  larj^est  tlu-y  kee|)dow  11  to  one  bloom  to  t  he 
stalk.  1  nuM-ured  one  si.\  .md  one.(|ii.irter  inches  in  di, muter,  of 
perfect  form,  .md  e.\rpiisitel>'  juire  .md  w  hite.  this,  too.  thoui^h  the 
chrysanthemum  season  h.i<l  not  be;j;un  by  nearly  a  month. 
This  was  the  f.ivorite  flower  of  my  mother,  and  h.is,  therefori', 
.ittiMCted  my  .ittention.  ( )thers  not  as  |.ir;^'e  as  our  old  silver  ten- 
cent  i)iece,  are  j^rown  on  rouiuled  bushes  of  considerabU"  si/t', 
covering;  the  bush  .ilmost  solidly.  They  ,ire  now  just  coming; 
into  season,  and  are  displaced  about  the  commonest  houses. 


*    ^1  . 


•  v.r 


oS, 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


14  5 


21    12.5 


W|/ 


ISO 

u 
I-  .. 

WUu 


U^   12.2 

1.8 


1.4 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


J. 


V 


v 


•\^ 


\\ 


sS^ 


6"^ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  USEO 

(716)  872-4503 


'^ 


'%'' 


^ 


9 

if 


1 


o"^ 


.    ir-! 


will 

a  1' 


CHAPTER  IX. 


An 

me 
a  n 


JL     I- 


I  !.! 


SPECULATIOXS  UPON  JAPAN  — (;KKAr  DYKES  A\D  WALLS— LILIPU- 
TLVN   TRP:i:S— FEMALK  EIH'CAIIOX. 

Hiogo,  Japan,  October  15,  1887. 

ThirtY-FIVE  years  ago  last  April  I  met  Bayard  Taylor  in 
Cairo.  We  were  both  on  our  way  to  Jerusalem,  he  expecting  to 
go  on  to  Moussoul  and  Ararat  ;  and  I  to  cross  Asia  Minor  to 
Constantinople.  He  abandoned  his  trip  and  joined  mc.  We 
were  nearly  of  the  same  age  and  conceived  a  liking  for  each 
other.  We  spent  months  together  in  tent  life  in  the  land  of  the 
Saracen,  and  crossed  by  land  from  Aleppo  to  Brousa.  In  a 
caique  we  were  rowed  at  night  toward  the  Bosphorus,  and  saw 
the  morning's  sun  gilding  the  domes  and  minarets  of  Stamboul. 
We  anticipated  some  months  more  of  pleasant  journeyings  to- 
gether in  Turkey,  Greece,  and  Albania.  But  on  reaching,  in 
Jul}',  the  sultan's  capital,  he  found  letters  from  the  New  York 
Tribune,  commanding  a  halt,  and  ii.''  rminghim  that  Commodore 
Perry  was  about  to  be  sent  on  an  expedition  to  Japan,  and  that 
the  paper  would  endeavor  to  get  him  a  position  on  the  commo- 
dore's ship.  We  discussed  the  future  and  talked  of  the  strange, 
!ocked-up  country  he  was  about  to  visit, — a  land  we  regarded  al- 
most as  belonging  to  another  world, — a  people  we  supposed  to 
be  of  different  mold  from  that  in  which  other  men  were  cast. 
He  did  join  the  expedition,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  shogun's 
hosts.  What  he  wrote  on  the  subject  showed  that  the  sight  of 
the  land  and  of  its  people  had  not  dispelled  the  illusions  we  were 
under  when  in  the  city  of  the  Turk.  Bayard  Taylor  has  gone 
from  among  men,  but  his  name  lives  in  poetry,  and  is  enrolled 
among  the  immortals.  Here,  in  the  land  he  helped  to  open  to 
the  world,  I  do  homage  to  his  memory,  and  count  it  among  my 
good  fortunes  that  I  knew  him  and  could  call  him  friend. 

A  glamour  surrounded  the  word  "  Japan  "  when  my  friend  and 
I  talked  of  it  far  into  the  night  a  third  of  a  century  ago  ;  a 
glamour  still  hangs  over  it  as  I  sit  here  in  this  delicious  climate 
and  think  of  its  long  past  and  speculate  upon  i^s  future.  Taylor 
and  I  thought  of  it  as  a  land  of  terrors,  and  of  its  men  a.,  bar- 
barian monsters.  The  islands  were  a  terra  incognita,  and  the 
American  fleet  was  going  to  them  bearing  discoverers ;  and  with 
true  Yankee  impudence,  our  people  actually  did  give  names  which 

64 


IS 

pel 
am 
wa 

thi 
wc 

sh, 

St( 

mi 
in 
ab 
ta 
dc 


ro 
ai 


ai 


ai 


p 


JAPANESE  THRIFT. 


65 


yet  rule,  under  the  right  of  discovery,  to  points  of  land  and  islands 
which  were  peopled  and  civilized  when  England  was  inhabited  by 
a  lot  of  ignorant  savages,  and  America  had  been  seen  only  by 
telescopic  observers  on  some  distant  planet.  We  thought  of 
America  opening  a  savage  land  to  European  and  American  com- 
merce, so  that  the  universal  Yankee  could  turn  a  penny  and  make 
a  mighty  dollar. 

I  sit  here,  however,  and  look  back  over  the  past.  The  land 
is  covered  by  a  weird  haze — a  haze  through  which  I  see  this 
people  existing  as  a  people  when  Nebuchadnezzar  was  grazing 
among  the  beasts  of  the  field,  and  when  "  Mene,  tekel,  upharsin  " 
was  blazing  in  frightful  glow  upon  the  Babylonian  wall.  I  see 
this  people  coming  down  through  the  long  ages,  doing  mighty 
works, — works  which  will  endure  until  the  rocking  earth  alone 
shall  sink  them  into  dusty  ruin, — works  not  piled  up  in  pyramidal 
stone  to  commemorate  the  legends  of  forgotten  masters,  but 
mingled  witii  and  made  a  part  of  the  very  soil  to  enable  it  to  wave 
in  corn  and  blossom  into  flowers  and  to  bear  fruits  to  feed  innumer- 
able peoples, — works  to  bridle  rushing  rivers  and  foaming  moun- 
tain torrents,  to  restrain  them,  in  their  wild  fury,  from  carrying 
destruction  and  death,  and  turning  them  into  handmaids  of  man, 
helping  the  dews  of  heaven  lO  cause  the  earth  to  blossom  as  a 
rose.  Huge  dykes  run  up  and  down  great  river  banks,  and  back 
and  forth  acr!)s^  innumerable  valleys,  confining  mighty  floods, 
and  making  ther..  the  support  and  helpers  of  the  people,  instead 
of  being  their  destroyer  ;  their  broad  summits  turned  into  smooth 
and  level  roads,  and  their  sloping  sides  clothed  with  forest  trees. 
Oftentimes  for  miles  on  the  crests  of  transverse  dykes  are  cut  deep 
channels,  along  which  flow  large  pellucid  streams,  fresh  from 
mountain  heights,  irrigating  innumerable  fields,  and  sending  j^ure 
water  through  stony  gutters  along  the  single  streets  of  numberless 
villages  and  hamlets. 

I  ride  for  miles  and  miles  through  fields  of  rice  so  rich  that  the 
stalks  bend  under  the  heavy  grain  ;  through  fields  of  millet, 
whose  heads  droop  like  ostrich  feathers  ;  through  fields  of  cotton, 
white  with  the  bursting  bolls;  through  fields  of  buckwheat,  blos- 
soming like  a  flower-bed;  fields  of  turnips  and  other  roots,  of 
emerald  green  ;  through  fields  of  tarro,  whose  broad  leaves  flap 
like  elephantine  ears;  of  sugar-cane,  so  thick  upon  the  ground 
that  one  wonders  how  the  roots  can  possibly  find  nutriment; 
through  plantations  of  tea,  almost  black  in  glossy  greenness.  I 
see  that  crop  follows  crop  so  quickly  that  the  soil  knows  no  rest, 
and  then  I  remember  that  this  thing  has  been  going  on  for  cen- 
turies, and  that  to  every  acre  of  land  under  cultivation  there  are 
three  people  and  over  to  be  supported.  That  these  people  not 
only  support  themselves,  but  export  $48,000,000  worth  of  produce 
for  the  luxury  of  other  lands,  and  that  they  do  not  import  a  single 
mouthful  of  food  from  those  lands.     Then  I  remember  that  all 


.    \^    i 


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1. 

V 

I 

k 

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■ '  i:r 


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;  i. 


w 


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i  !^ 


} 


66 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


the  houses  in  the  land  are  of  wood,  and  are  burned  down  on  an 
average  of  once  every  ten  years.  In  other  words,  that  there  is  not 
and  cannot  be  any  hoarded  wealth  ;  that  the  people  eat,  drink, 
and  are  merry,  with  no  thought  of  a  remote  to-morrow  ;  that  they 
eat  of  the  produce  of  each  day,  and  lay  up  nothing  for  the  next. 
And  then  I  remember  that  this  has  been  their  liabit  and  their  nature 
for  ages.  Then,  again,  1  recall  the  fact  that,  up  to  a  few  years 
ago,  these  millions  had  no  rights  which  their  daimio  masters  and 
sumarai  retainers  were  bound  to  respect.  That  the  nob'-man 
fleshed  his  maiden  sword  upon  the  limbs  and  backs  of  his  slaves 
on  the  streets  and  highways  as  freely  as  a  boy  would  cut  off 
thistle-heads  with  a  cane.  With  all  of  this  the  fact,  yet  one  sees 
a  liard-working  poor  man  in  his  half-clothing,  naked  up  to  the 
thigh,  carr)-ing  his  head  as  erect  and  well  poised  upon  his  shoul- 
ders as  ever  did  a  Roman  senator ;  that  the  children  are  fat, 
ruddy,  saucy,  and  jolly  as  ever  were  seen  in  a  schoolhouse  play- 
ground in  America. 

Five  years  ago  an  educated  woman  was  a  rare  thing  in  the  land, 
while  to-day  every  city  has  its  large  girl-scliools,  in  which  are  hun- 
dreds of  the  rising  mothers  of  the  land  getting  as  good  an  educa- 
tion as  an  average  \\oman  at  home  obtains.  We  were  in  a  private 
mission-school  a  daj'  or  two  since,  in  which  were  300  well-clothed 
girls  and  90  boardcs.  There  we  heard  one  of  our  own  Chicago 
girls,  daughter  of  our  learned  bibliographer,  Mr.  Poole,  late  of  the 
public  library,  hearing  a  class  of  young  ladies  recite — and  right 
well,  too — exercises  in  English  grammar,  and  another  class  recite, 
with  decided  intelligence,  a  h.'sson  in  physiology  to  the  bright  and 
earnest  principal.  Miss  Dauthaday.  I  recall  the  fact  that  this 
wonderful  progress  is  of  the  growth  of  five  years;  that  fathers 
who,  up  to  ten  years  ago,  thought  w(iman  was  intended  to  be 
the  slave,  or,  at  best,  but  the  agreeable  upper  servant,  of  her 
father,  brother,  or  husband,  are  now  straining  f;very  nerve  to  give 
their  daughters  a  liberal  education,  and  particularly  desire  them 
to  be  able  to  read  English  literature,  while  even  luisbands  are 
sending  their  young  wives  to  school. 

Aiding  in  all  of  tliis  is  the  progressive  Empre.ss,  who,  knowing 
that  things  cannot  be  well  done  by  halves,  utters  the  decree 
that  women,  to  be  received  at  court,  must  wear  European  cos- 
tumes. And  this  is  not  done  for  vanity's  sake,  or  to  encourage 
some  pet  dressmaker,  but  to  change  woman's  status  absolutely, 
and  from  the  very  bottom.  Last  year,  when  she  and  the  Mikado 
visited  Ozaka,  she  let  it  be  known  that  no  rank  could  enter  into 
her  august  presence  except  in  European  dress,  and,  knowing 
how  this  would  entail  hardship  upon  many,  with  kind  generosity 
sent  presents  of  costly  stuff  to  many  ladies  to  enable  them  to  be 
present  at  her  reception. 

By  the  way,  I  commend  the  Empress  for  her  good  intentions, 
but  I  lament  that  she  had  not  called  a  congress  of  wise  women 


JAPANESE  DRESS. 


67 


together  to  advise  and  invent  some  better  costume  than  the 
miserable,  unhealthy,  and  not  over-decent  style  of  dress  now  worn 
by  civilized  women.  Our  women  arc  frightfully  shocked  by  the 
exposure  permitted  by  the  Japanese  costume,  but  forget  that  they 
themselves  do  nearly  as  bad.  They  make  a  well-shaped  dress, 
and  then  stuff  in  artificial  filling  when  nature  has  been  niggardly 
in  her  gifts.  Conventionalism  makes  the  thing  modest  and 
decent,  and  habit  and  fashion  make  us  think  it  pretty.  But  there 
is  absolutely  nothing  in  th  style  of  the  day  which  is  artistic, 
graceful,  healthy,  or  naturally  attractive.  I  wish  I  could  have 
had  the  ear  of  the  Empress  before  she  made  her  fiat.  I  would 
have  begjed  her  to  get  u]>  a  new  style,  modified  upon  a  Chinese 
model.  It  is  a  really  pretty,  convenient,  and  sensible  dress.  This 
costume  we  s.iw,  in  great  beauty,  on  the  wife  of  the  Chinese  min- 
ister and  on  ladies  of  her  suite  at  a  temple  in  Tokio,  when  they 
came  for  their  regular  monthly  devotions.  Without  any  apparent 
curiosity,  we  were  able  to  watch  and  examine  them  for  nearly  a 
lialf-hour.  Their  dress  was  exceedingly  becoming,  thoroughly 
modest,  and  very  artistic  and  graceful,  and  yet  of  such  form  that 
it  could  be  adapted  to  every  change  of  temperature.  Our  women 
are  intelligent,  modest,  and  full  of  aesthetic  refinement,  and  yet 
they  have  become  so  thoroughly  slaves  to  conventional  ideas  that 
they  deform  themselves  and  believe  themselves  well  dressed  be- 
cause they  are  in  the  fashion,  and  imagine  themselves  modestly 
attired  because  custi)m  has  ratified  the  mode.  I  would  like  to 
build  a  wall  around  Ciiina  out  of  which  no  almond-eyed  Celestial 
could  escape,  but  it  would  delight  me  if  the  costume  of  thc'r 
ladies  could  be  introduced  among  Western  nations.  We  would 
then  have  our  better  halves  dressed  to  please  an  artistic  eye,  with- 
out the  present  waste  of  female  health  and  strength.  Japan 
nceiis,  and  is  rapidly  adopting  Western  ideas,  but  when  her 
women  import  annual  pattern  plates  from  Paris,  and  live  up  to 
the  changing  fashions  of  that  giddy  capital,  they  will  have  lost 
much  of  what  they  gain  by  other  imi)rovements. 

One  cannot  realize  the  enormous  strides  in  progress  this  peo- 
ple has  made  since  Perry  calmly  sailed  up  Yeddo  Bay,  except  by 
reading  the  intelligent  observations  of  European  and  y\merican 
writers  who  were  here  CO  or  30  years  ago,  and  then  by  com- 
paring their  descriptions  of  things  as  they  then  were  with 
what  the  most  careless  traveller  can  now  see.  The  common 
remark  made  by  foreign  residents  here  is  that  the  Japanese  are 
moving  forward  too  rapidly.  When  asked  why,  they  can  give  no 
intelligent  answer.  They  simply  think  the  thing  cannot  last. 
The  most  intelligent  lady  we  have  met  here  made  this  remark  to 
me.  I  replied  by  asking  my  usual  question  :  "  Why  ?  "  She 
naively  answered :  "  Five  years  ago  we  began  thoroughly  to  in- 
troduce our  system  of  female  education  among  the  people.  It 
was  up-hill  work.     Wc  were  met  by  every  kind  of  native  opposi- 


!V:h      "   ' 


m 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


tion      Now  they  have  not  only  been  keeping  pace  with  us,  step 
by  step,  bu':  arc  actually  outstripping  us.  and  we  cannot  keep  up 

with  them."  ,     ^     r  i 

Is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  then,  that  a  close  student  of  human 
nature  iinds  himself  constantly  asking  the  qucstio-i :  "  What  is  to 
be  the  future  of  this  peop'<;  ?  "  One  fact  makes  this  question  the 
more  pertinent,  and  that  is  that  the  people  themselves  do  not 
seem  to  be  aware  of  the  rapidity  of  their  own  advancement. 
They  are  so  greedy  for  knowledge,  and  so  apt  in  its  acquirement, 
that  they  seem  to  take  their  progress  as  a  thing  of  course— a  per- 
fectly natural  corollary  of  their  determination  to  make  progress. 
They  are  not  simply  imitators,  as  are  the  Chinese,  but  they  catch 
Western  ideas,  and  these  ideas  become  their  own,  and  not  infre- 
quently are  improved  upon.  Their  farmers,  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  a  single  scientific  fact,  are  yet  the  most  scientific  of  agri- 
cufturists.  Without  the  knowletige  of  a  sin_L>;le  principle  to  guide 
them,  they  dig  and  sow,  manure  and  reap  as  if  replete  with  all 
the  results  of  past  scientific  research.  They  seem  to  think  that, 
in  every  walk  of  life,  they  will  imbibe  knowletlge  and  skill  as  a 
sponge  drinks  up  moisture.  And  1  ask  myself  the  question  : 
"Will  they  not?" 

In  the  kindred  branches  of  agriculture — floriculture  and  arbori- 
culture— they  are  as  skilled  as  in  the  first.  One  sees  beautifully 
developed  flowers  constantly,  up  against  the  mud  wall  of  a  smoky 
hovel,  in  hamlets,  and  in  mountain  valleys;  they  are  frequently 
seen  in  patches,  the  size  of  a  bath-towel,  stolen  from  the  very 
macadam  road;  on  ledges  of  rocks  where  a  hatful  of  soil  will  lie, 
dahlias  of  great  variety  and  perfect  in  form,  coxcombs  of  e\(piis- 
ite  hues,  of  huge  size,  and  formed  like  beautiful  pears  ;  marguer- 
ites as  large  as  a  silver  dollar,  and  in  great  masses  upon  the  bush  ; 
a  purple  iron-weed,  a  sort  of  coreopsis  nearly  as  large  as  the  mar- 
guerite, and  equally  thickly  covering  the  head  ;  coleas  and  other 
foliage  plants  so  brilliant  in  dyes  that  the\-  appear  to  have  been 
dipped  in  blood  and  then  fringed  with  burning  sunbeams;  mari- 
golds and  other  kindred  flowers  nearly  as  large  as  the  dahlias. 
These  seem  to  be  the  favorites  of  the  peasant  or  coolie  popu- 
lation. 

The  skill  of  these  people  in  tree  culture  is  even  more  surprising 
than  that  shown  in  floriculture.  The  latter  is  not  so  novel  to  the 
average  American.  He  has  seen  at  home  the  little  wild  rose 
worked  up  into  the  huge  and  perfect  jacqueminot.  He  has  en- 
joyed the  delicious  odor  of  the  peony  transformed  from  the  rank- 
smelling  old-fashioned  plant,  and  is  ready  to  comprehend  any 
monstrous  metamorphosis  among  flowers.  But  when  he  sees 
here  an  old  pine  tree  with  gnarled  and  bent  branches,  its  whole 
appearance  the  exact  counterpart  of  the  ancient  monarch  of  the 
mountain-side;  when  he  sees  this  old-looking,  perfectly  healthy 
and  thrifty  fir,  lOO,  200,  and  even  300,  and  400  years  old,  growing 


r 


IJLirUTIAN   TREES. 


69 


in  a  flower-pot  two  or  three  feet  deep,  he  hardly  knows  whether 
he  be  more  interested  in  the  skill  evinced  or  amused  by  the  gro- 
tesqueness  of  the  idea  which  suggested  it.  Such  a  tree  as  this 
!  'lavc  seen.  Its  whole  height  was  not  five  feet,  and  its  gnarled 
branches  did  not  cover  an  area  of  eight  feet.  I  asked  its  age,  and 
w:.s  answered,  450  years.  Near  by  were  dozens  of  smaller  ones, 
three  feet  high,  in  pottery  vases,  perfect  in  form,  some  round  and 
bright  as  the  denizens  of  the  rich  bottom-land.  Others,  queer- 
looking,  odd  old  liliputians,  making  one  think  he  was  viewing  an 
ancestor  of  centuries  ago  hanging  from  a  rocky  crag,  and  that 
he  was  looking  at  it  through  the  reversed  lenses  of  a  powerful 
field-glass.     I  ask: 

"  How  old  is  that?" 

"  It  was  planted  by  my  father  52  years  ago." 

"And  that?" 

"  My  grandfather  put  it  in  the  pot  70  years  back." 

"And  this  other  here  that  looks  as  if  it  had  been  watered  from 
the  fresh-water  tank  in  Noah's  ark  ?  " 

"  Ah !  that  is  a  beauty,  and  is  the  pride  of  my  garden.  It  was 
transplanted  when  no  taller  than  my  little  finger  by  my  great- 
great-great-great-grandfather,  nearly  200  years  ago.  He  spat  upon 
its  roots.  He  is  a  good  god  now,  and  his  soul  sits  among  its 
green  branches  every  day  and  blesses  his  children."  And  the 
good  man  foided  his  hands  and  looked  as  if  he  felt  that  the  spirit 
ot  his  ancestor,  now  one  of  his  household  gods,  heard  his  pious 
utterances. 

These  old  little  trees  arc  in  gardens,  and  adorn  niches  for  orna- 
ments in  the  houses  of  the  well-to-do.  They  are  grown  on  either 
side  of  the  central  incense  burners  before  the  inner  shrines — the 
iioly  of  holies, — where  abide  the  living  souls  of  the  gods  in  the 
great  temples,  both  Shinto  and  Buddhist.  One  looks  upon  them 
•••^ry  mucii  as  you  look  into  the  meek  eyes  of  a  baby  elephant — 
so  cute,  so  quaint,  so  knowing,  and  so  like  its  monster  mother, 
when  it  stretches  fortli  its  ilexible  trunk  to  take  a  peanut  from 
your  hand. 

Then,  too,  there  are  monster  trees,  claimed  to  be  a  thousand, 
or  nearly  a  tlioiisand  years  old,  whose  branches  have  been  trained 
into  ever}'  conci'ival)le,  abnormal  shape,  and  are  venerated,  if  not 
absolutely  worsiiippcd.  We  visited  one  at  Karasahi,  on  Lake 
Riwa.  It  is  about  si.x  feet  in  iliameter  just  above  the  spread  of 
the  roots,  but  a  little  higher  up.  where  its  three  great  branches 
spring  out,  it  takes  a  jQ-foot  line  to  girdle  it.  At  some  20 
feet  altitude  the  many  limbs  coming  out  of  the  three  great 
branches  have  been  trained  nearly  horizontally,  and  cover  a  space 
of  I  So  feet  from  out  to  out.  One  branch,  up  to  a  few  years  since, 
lifted  to  a  height  of  90  odd  feet.  A  typhoon  took  it  off.  The 
broken  place  is  cemented  over,  and  a  little  god  house  is  perched 
over  the  cemented  fracture.     A  small  temple  lies  in  its  shade, 


(  I 


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1\^' 


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rl 

III 

Mi 

11 

I 


mi 


7« 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


(     I 


and  the  soul  of  a  god  lives  and  sings  among  its  needles.  The 
attendant  priest  told  me  it  was  1,000  years  old.  I  believed  him. 
Why  should  I  doubt  ?  Thomas  doubted.  I  never  do,  especially 
now  that  I  travel  for  rest  and  wish  to  live  in  a  half-dream. 

These  people  have  had  no  horses  to  speak  of,  no  beasts  of  bur- 
den, no  complicated  machinery.  They  themselves  have  been 
beasts  of  burden  for  so  many  thousands  of  years  that  the  moon 
was  young  and  had  not  worn  its  harvest  phase  when  they  became 
people  and  commenced  to  earn  their  food  by  the  sweat  of  their 
faces.  With  their  naked  hands  they  have  chiselled  rocks  of 
monster  size  and  erected  them  into  mighty  walls,  40,  50,  go, 
and  100  feet  high,  about  the  castles  of  the  great  capitals. 
Some  of  these  walls  are  miles  in  length,  and  are  built  of  stones 
brought  from  groat  distances  and  weighing  from  100  and  200 
pounds  up  to  very  many  tons.  In  the  castle  at  Ozaka,  high  up 
on  the  wall,  are  granite  stones  30  feet  long,  eight  feet  high,  and 
nearly  as  many  feet  deep.  These  I  examined  on  either  side  of 
the  gate-way.  But  within  were  stones  so  huge  that  they  looked 
like  rocky  precipices  erected  by  nature  upon  a  mountain-side.  I 
could  not  go  in  to  measure  them — I  had  no  permit,  and  the 
guard,  after  politely  permitting  us  to  look  for  a  minute  or  two, 
motioned  us  to  pass  on. 

But  we  had  time  to  see  two  monster  stones,  which  .seemed  to  us 
to  be  over  40  feet  long,  15  to  20  feet  high,  and  how  deep  we  could 
only  guess,  for  they  were  a  part  of  the  great  inner  wall.  These 
mighty  walls  were  not  erected,  as  was  Cheops  pyramid,  by  cap- 
tive nations  worked  to  destroy  them,  but  by  a  cheerful  and 
politically  enslaved  people,  but  still  the  people  of  the  land ;  peo- 
ple who  can  chase  a  piece  of  bronze  with  a  delicacy  of  touch  and 
a  lightness  of  finish  few  European  people  can  reach  ;  can  carve  a 
bird  and  have  done  so  for  centuties,  and  did  so  when  these 
massive  works  were  erected  ;  can  and  have  carved  froin  wood, 
birds  so  natural  that  one  can  almost  see  them  pick  the  rice  they 
appear  to  be  feeding  upon,  andean  see  the  ruffling  of  the  feathers 
as  they  fly. 

"  What  will  be  the  future  of  this  woiuleiful  penple?" 


HO 


vm 


CHAPTER  X. 

HONOR  TO  PERRV— THE  MIKADO  FORMERLY  A  GOD;  NOW  A  WISE 

RULER— RAl'Il)   PROGRESS— GOOD    rOLICE— GOOD  ROADS— 

A    ITIOUGIIT  OF  MOTHER— FARM   HOUSES. 


Kobe,  Japan,  October  16,  1887. 

America  delights  in  doing  lionor  to  tiio  memory  of  her  great 
dead,  and  her  people  never  weary  in  recounting  their  heroic 
deeds.  One  of  her  great  men,  however,  has  not  yet  received  the 
honors  due  him,  and  his  noblest  act  is  appreciated  only  by  a  few. 
When  Commodore  Perry  conceived  the  idea  of  drawing  back  the 
bolts  which  for  centuries  had  locked  this  country  against 
foreigners  and  then  calmly  and  bravely  carried  out  his  design,  he 
showed  the  brain  of  a  great  statesman,  and  did  one  of  the  boldest 
acts  recounted  on  the  page  of  history.  The  bristling  guns  of  his 
fleet  did  much  to  bring  about  the  wonderful  success  of  the  under- 
taking, but  not  so  much  as  did  the  calm,  dignified,  and  patient 
bearing  of  its  commander.  The  reticent  diplomacy  of  the  states- 
man did  as  much  as  did  the  bold  demeanor  of  the  sailor.  Other 
nations  have  taken  greater  advantage  of  the  results  of  the  expedi- 
tion than  we  have  d(jne.  Let  us  at  least  do  all  honor  to  the  man  to 
whom  belongs  the  glory  of  the  idea  and  of  the  act. 

At  that  time  Japan  had  an  anointed  ruler,  who  reigned  in  seclu- 
sion as  a  god,  who  was  worshipped  and  venerated  as  such,  and  was 
feared  because  he  was  the  son  of  the  sun,  and  was  supposed  to 
have  daily  intercourse  and  communion  with  the  great  Author  of 
all  things.  She  had,  however,  another  ruler,  who  governed  in  the 
name  of  the  hidden  one  and  was  feared  as  a  master,  whose  sword 
was  never  sheathed.  For  ages  the  mikado  had  never  been  seen 
by  his  subjects.  He  gave  audiences  to  the  princes,  nobles,  and 
great  priests  of  the  realm,  but  he  spoke  from  behind  a  veil — an 
impenetrable  screen — and  those  who  pleaded  before  him  did  so 
with  their  foreheads  bowed  down  upon  the  ground.  They  would 
not  have  dared,  even  if  they  could,  to  turn  their  eyes  upon  the 
brightness  of  his  dazzling  face.  To  have  looked  upon  such 
effulgence  would  have  been  an  impiety,  punishable  by  the  offend- 
ed gods. 

Through  the  kindness  of  our  excellent  Minister,  cx-Governor 
Hubbard  of  Texas,  we  had  a  permit  from  the  Minister  of  Home 
Affairs  to  visit  the  mikado's  palace  at  Kioto.  We  saw  the  pavilion 
on  which  the  descendant  of  the  sun-goddess  formerly  sat  when 

71 


M 


''  n 


\-M% 


'.  vv   « 


l\ 


7a 


A  RACK  WITH  THE  SUN. 


1.    r 


'     X  (■ 


=ii  ■  N 


giving  audience,  and  lifted  tlic  heavy  silk  curtains  which  once 
screened  the  mighty  one.  It  was  less  than  20  years  ago  that 
the  great  crowned  but  unsceptred  monarch— the  I2ist 
ruler  ''of  his  line— lived  in  this  great  palace  and  reigned 
over,  but  did  not  rule,  his  people.  For  hundreds  of  years 
his  ancestors  had  lived  and  reigned  as  he  did,  while  the  shogun 
(tycoon^  governed  for  him  from  Yeddo,  and  ruled  the  people  in 
his  name  with  despotic  sway.  Perry  opened  Japan  to  the  gaze 
of  the  world,  and  western  civilization  soon  opened  the  palace  of 
the  mikado  and  showed  his  face  to  his  people.  The  last  of  the 
shoguns  is  now  a  pensioned  civilian.  The  tyrannical  daimios  are 
simply  influential  nobles,  and  the  noble  class,  the  samurai,  arc 
tr)-ing  to  earn  an  honest  living  by  filling  government  posts  or 
pljing  the  lusty  limb  in  honest  toil,  instead  of  hewing  peasants 
down  for  a  pastime,  or  debauching  their  wives  and  daughters  for 
recreation. 

The  Mikado  has  moved  from  his  celestial  palace  in  the  sacred 
city  of  Kioto,  and  now  lives  in  the  palace  of  the  tycoon  at  Yeddo 
(now  Tokio) ;  rides  in  an  open  carriage  before  the  people  ;  visits 
the  great  cities  of  his  empire ;  governs  by  a  species  of  responsible 
ministr)-,  responsible  at  least  to  public  opinion,  and  in  two  years 
his  37,000,000  of  people  are  to  have  representation  in  the  councils 
of  the  nation.  Colleges  and  universities  are  crowded  with  intelli- 
gent seekers  after  knowledge,  and  the  professors'  chairs  are  filled 
by  a  ell-paid,  educated  men,  summoned  from  all  lands.  Women 
are  being  educated  fully  and  completely,  concubinage  is  forbid- 
den, or  at  least  is  no  longer  protected  by  law.  Railroads  are  being 
built  all  over  the  land.  Great  ships  and  huge  steamers  of  all  na- 
tions ply  in  her  waters  and  lie  in  her  harbors  by  the  dozens,  and 
the  people  recognize  the  fact  that  tliey  owe  all  this  to  America. 
All  hail  to  the  memory  of  brave  Perry  !  Paradoxical  as  it  may 
sound,  it  was  well  for  this  people  that  they  were  governed  by 
despotic  sway  when  the  country  was  opened.  The  force  of  des- 
potism alone  could  have  broken  down  the  prcjutlices  engendered 
by  centuries  of  seclusion  and  bigt)tr)'.  P"or  ages  the  pc'ople  had 
possessed  no  will  of  their  own.  They  were  told  to  march  for- 
ward, and  with  implicit  obedience  they  started  on  their  march, 
and  are  still  marching  to  a  quickstep,  which  dazzles  not  only  the 
outward  world  but  the  old  rulers,  who  are,  and  will  be,  compelled 
to  keep  in  line  to  the  quickened  time. 

To  all  outward  appearances  the  country  is  well  governed.  It 
is  certainly  the  safest  country  to  travel  in  I  have  ever  known. 
We  have  wandered  in  highways  and  byways ;  wc  have  been  in 
crowded  cities  where  the  people  swarmed  as  bees  swarm  about 
hives;  in  dark  mountain  gorges  and  on  lonely  mountain  sides; 
being  foreigners  and  travellers,  we  were  known  to  carry  valuables 
and  to  possess  funds  ;  wc  have  walked  and  ridden  through  dark 
streets  and   lonely  roads  by  night;  we  have  slept   in   hotels  in 


il« 


JAPANESE  CITIES. 


n 


small  villages  and  in  large  towns,  with  no  locks  upon  our  doors 
and  no  walls  about  us  thicker  than  a  panel  of  strong  tissue  paper  ; 
we  leave  our  rooms  with  open  valises,  and  valuables  on  open 
shelves.  We  have  lived  thus  for  t..c  weeks,  travelling  over  500 
miles,  and  have  lost  nothing,  except  through  our  own  for- 
getfulncss. 

VVe  have  seen  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people,  and  have  not 
seen  a  really  drunken  man,  nor  a  single  quarrelsome  or  boisterous 
one.  We  have  seen  hundreds  of  well  dressed,  quiet  policemen  :  we 
have  never  seen  one  gossiping  with  the  people,  or  two  talking  to- 
gether. We  have  seen  crowds  collected  by  curiosity  or  other 
cause,  and  have  seen  them  at  one  and  good-naturedly  dispense 
on  a  low  order  from  a  patrolman.  We  have  never  seen  a  street 
blockade  for  a  minute,  although  we  have  often  seen  them  thickly 
crowded.  We  have  driven  through  towns  when  holiday  proces- 
sions were  moving  through  the  streets,  but  have  never  been  com- 
pelled to  stop,  a  way  being  always  opened  {-^x  our  passage. 

The  rulers  may  be  tyrants,  and  the  people  over-taxed,  but  the 
tyrants  evidently  rule  wisely,  and  the  people  pay  the  taxes  with- 
out a  murmur.  In  England  the  lower  classes — the  hardworkcrs 
— look  sullen  and  ill-tempered.  In  France  they  wear  an  air  of  gay 
recklessness.  In  Austria  the  peasants  always  make  me  sad,  so 
tired  and  hard-worked  do  they  look.  Here  there  is  an  appearance 
of  absolutely  bright  cheerfulness  on  all  faces,  even  when  the  arms 
and  legs  are  doing  the  work  which  beasts  alone  should  perform. 
Why  is  it?  Is  it  because  they  are  but  merry,  speaking  animals, 
and  do  not  know  that  they  suffer?  If  so,  it  proves  that  it  were 
folly  to  be  wise. 

In  March,  1886,  Tokio's  population  was,  in  round  numbers, 
1,300,000.  It  had  3,748  policemen,  divided  as  follows  :  One  chief, 
26  captains,  36  lieutenants,  341  sergeants,  3,441  patrolmen,  8 
mounted  men,  and  141  detectives.  l)uring  the  year  1885  the 
whole  number  of  arrests  were  6,414;  during  January  and  Feb- 
ruary, 1886,  808.  We  have  been  in  five  cities  with  populations  of 
over  150,000  each;  in  eight  with  populations  from  5,000  to 
50,000;  in  at  least  50  villages  and  towns  with  from  500  to  2,000. 
Policemen  are  all  over  the  country  in  every  village,  all  wearing  a 
common  uniform.  We  have  not  seen  a  single  one  with  a  prisoner 
or  in  any  altercation  with  a  citizen. 

The  streets  and  public  roads  are  beautifully  paved,  nearly  all 
with  gravel,  shell,  or  fine  macadam,  anil  all  well  crowned,  thor- 
oughlj-  roiled,  and  kept  in  constant  repair.  A  stone  roller  about 
four  feet  in  diameter,  drawn  by  a  dozen  or  more  men,  is  used  to 
pack  the  gravel  down.  The  streets  in  towns  are  as  clean  as  if 
.swept.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  there  arc  com- 
paratively no  horses  to  make  a  street  or  road  filthy,  except  in 
Tokio,  and  no  heavy  wagons  to  cut  into  a  road-bed.  The  light, 
loaded  vehicles  simply  keep  them  well  packed.      In  Tokio  the 


'..'■v' 


!\^ 


■J''  )■ 


Mi  1    ,'K  J, 


I 


74 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


1 1 


1        '  ! 

\m 

cavalry  soldiers  and  gentlemen's  carriages  employ  quite  a  num- 
bcr  of  horses,  but  all  droppings  are  ;.t  once  swept  up. 

There  are  four  great  national  highways  leading  from  Tokio  and 
running  in  different  directions  to  the  extreme  limits  of  the  land. 
These  are  well  graded  and  are  kept  in  tiiorough  repair  by  the 
central  government.  Branch  roads  lead  from  these  great  high- 
ways in  every  direction.  Many  of  them  may,  too,  be  mair-tained 
by  the  government.  This  I  had  not  the  means  of  fully  learning. 
The  most  of  them,  however,  I  did  learn,  are  built  and  supported 
by  the  several  prefectures  or  by  the  villages  traversed.  There 
being  such  an  abundance  of  rivers  and  streams,  there  results 
naturally  a  necessity  for  a  vast  luimber  of  bridges.  Many  of  them 
would  seem  at  first  blush  unnecessary,  but  this  idea  is  removed 
by  the  reflection  that  in  the  sprirg  and  rainy  season  floods  are 
greater  here  than  elsewhere,  anil  the  people  would  be  cut  off  from 
locomotion  by  strear.is  which,  though  small  rivulets  to-day,  at 
times  become  fierce  torrents. 

Many  bridges  on  the  public  highways  have  been  built  over  the 
large  rivers  by  contiguous  villages.  These  are  toil  bridges.  The 
tolls  for  a  jinrickisha  ranges  from  one  to  two  antl  a  half  cents. 
We  did  not  see  a  toll-gate  or  bridge  presided  over  by  a  single  toll- 
taker.  All  seemed  to  have  three  reverend  fellows,  who  were 
squatted  within  the  toll-house  with  the  inevitable  charcoal  brazier 
for  lighting  a  pipe  and  another  for  making  tea.  Are  the)-  thus 
placed  in  threes  to  watch  each  other?  I  wished  to  halt  and 
advise  them  not  to  have  15.  Chicago  experience  has  proven  that 
to  be  a  fatal  number.  Majorities  of  8  and  19  are  not  healthy 
for  the  people. 

The  width  of  the  great  roads  depends  much  on  the  lay  of  the 
land.  I  found  the  average  to  be,  in  road-bed.  from  12  to  13^  feet. 
Outside  of  this  is  a  ditch  on  either  side,  sometimes  rock  lined,  but 
generally  in  the  simple  soil.  Along  these  ditches,  in  all  moun- 
tainous or  hilly,  and  therefore  well  watered,  localities,  run  streams 
oftentimes  full  and  clear  enough  to  be  fine  trout  brooks.  They 
are  either  feeders  to  or  drains  from  the  irrigating  ditches  and 
canals  which  supply  the  fields  with  their  indispensable  fluid. 
These  roadside  brooks  are  frequently  deliciously  laughing  and 
babbling.  The  branch  roads  and  small  byways  are  very  narrow, 
in  mountains,  barely  wide  enough  for  the  jinrickisha,  or  for  a 
pack-pony,  with  turnout  places  here  and  there,  for  the  conven- 
ience of  those  which  may  meet.  By  the  way,  the  little  man- 
carriages  are  34  inches  from  tread  to  tread,  when  made  for  single 
persons  ;  48  inches  when  intended  for  two  passengers. 

Outside  of  the*  ditches  on  the  great  roads  are  rows  of  trees, 
often  doubled.  These  leave  the  width  of  the  whole  road  from  20 
to  25  feet.  Many  of  the  trees  are  of  great  age  and  size.  Between 
Utsonomieya  and  Nikko,  on  either  side  of  the  road,  are  old 
cryptomerias,  a  species  of  cedar,  none  of  them  under  two  and  a 


SAD  REFLECTIONS. 


n 


half  feet  in  diameter,  running  up  in  many  to  five,  and  extending 
to  a  heigiit  of  not  far  from  200  feet.  They  are  planted  so  close 
tojjother  that  frequently  the  trunks  near  the  ground  are  incorpo- 
rated one  with  another  as  a  great  solid  wall.  The  old  road  has 
been  worn  down  through  ages  until  it  is  four  to  six  feet  below  the 
original  level.  The  roots  of  the  great  trees  seeking  the  moist  soil 
near  the  ditches,  after  the  manner  of  cedars,  have  become  so 
interlaced,  and  have  grown  to  such  a  size,  that  they  form  an  abso- 
lute wall  of  woody  roots  from  four  to  eight  or  ten  feet  higl"  for, 
like  other  cedars,  the  flanges  of  the  roots  lift  considerably  above 
the  soil.  The  branches  of  these  lofty  trees  unit  j  overhead  and 
form  a  perfect  Gothic  arch.  Looking  through  one  of  these  great 
woody  arches,  the  effect  is  very  weird  1  id  pii  turesque.  The 
trunks  of  the  trees,  running  one  into  the  iiier  in  the  perspective 
v\  \\ ,  resemble  a  mighty  basaltic  wall.  High  abo\'e  springs  the 
green  arch,  through  which  the  sunlight  at  noom'iiy  barely  pene- 
trates, and  toward  late  evening  makes  one  feel  he  is  moving 
between  rows  of  spectral  monsters.  Rows  of  trees  are  on  all  the 
great  roads,  not  always  of  cryi)tomerias,  being  sometimes  yellow 
pine  and  other  species.  When  of  yellow  jiine  the  effect  i -  very 
grotesque.  The  trees  throw  out  no  branches  until  at  a  consider- 
able height,  and  then  these  are  so  gnarled,  bent,  aiul  yellow,  as 
they  lean  towards  each  other  over  the  road,  that  the  effect  is  more 
artistic  than  with  the  other  arrow-like,  straight  monarchs  of  the 
forest. 

In  some  of  the  mountain  passes  the  public  roads  are  for  miles 
paved  with  basaltic  stones  laid  (lat.  These  have  become  polished 
by  the  wear  of  centuries.  Over  them  the  traveller  has  to  walk, 
and  hard  and  ugly  work  it  is.  One  slips  and  flounders  as  he  goes 
uphill  until  his  knees  and  thighs  ache  to  the  bone.  One  slips 
and  flounders  as  he  goes  down  hill  until  the  calves  of  the  legs  feel 
like  monster  boils  ;  at  least  mine  did.  When  I  sit  on  a  nice  seat 
and  look  at  a  beautiful  scene,  I  am  but  thirty-two  and  the  rise, 
and  "  all  my  skies  are  rosy  bright,  laughing  in  triumph  at  yester- 
night." I  am  j-oungand  full  of  to-morrow,  and  live  in  the  present 
and  glory  in  the  future.  But  when  I  climb  a  mountain  I  am  full 
sixty-two  years  old,  and  I  feel  there  is  no  morrow  until  the 
to-morrow  of  eternal  rest  shall  come.  This  is  a  beautiful  world; 
and  made  beautiful  for  man,  or  it  is  a  beautiful  world  and  man, 
springing  from  its  soil,  is  so  fashioned  that  he  revels  in  the  beau- 
ties showered  upon  the  lap  cf  his  mother  earth.  Man's  sins  and 
wrong-doings  scar  and  mar  th^  picturesque  earth,  and  if  he  com- 
mits no  sin,  the  decrepitude  of  age  dim?  the  eye  and  numbs  the 
senses  until  all  is  sere  and  in  the  yellow  '';af. 

We  are  now  in  the  latter  half  of  the  middle  fall  month.  It  is, 
to  all  intents,  glorious  summer.  I  look  out  of  my  window. 
Light,  fleecy  clouds  chase  each  other  athwart  the  clear  blue  sky. 
I  lay  down  my  pencil  and  am  lost  in  revery.     How  blue  would 


1     'i  -s  'f 


V      I 


H 


i  MM 


'  « 


■!': 


J  rf  j: 


^.1^^ 


^^Ij 


I-  ii 


!     I'; 


76 


^  JiAC£  WITH  THE  SUN. 


be  yonder  sky !  How  light  the  floating  clouds,  if  she  who  was 
my  sunshine  were  but  by  my  side  to  enjoy  and  drink  in  the  beauty 
about  me!  How  far  off  in  yonder  blue  is  her  pure  spirit  float- 
ing ?  Or  is  it  hovering  near  me  now  ?  Does  it  join  me,  and  is  it 
journeying  with  me  as  I  make  my  "  race  with  the  sun  ?  "  I  envy  the 
Japanese  their  absolute  faith  in  the  living  presence  of  their  dead 
ancestors.  But  their  fathers  and  forefathers  alone  live  about 
them.  No  thought  of  the  dead  mother.  One  look  of  love,  one 
sweet  whisper—"  My  darling  child !  " — from  her  who  bore  me, 
who  nursed  me  upon  her  lap,  and  bade  the  fever  go  when  she  laid 
her  cool  hand  upon  my  baby  brow — these  would  be  worth  to  me 
more  than  a  thousand  blessings  from  all  the  fathers  through  whose 
loins  I  came,  from  Adam  down.  One  look  of  undying  devotion 
from  the  dark  eyes,  which  were  deeper  than  fathomless  wells  ; 
one  touch  of  the  soft  hand,  which  a  few  months  ago  could  cause 
every  drop  of  blood  to  dance  and  sing  through  my  veins  ;  one 
earnest  "  1  love  you  "  from  those  lips  which  a  year  ago  made  my 
life  a  song  of  living  joy — Ah  !  Fathers  may  be  revered  and  hon- 
ored, but  dead  mothers  and  wives  are  for  worship,  as  living 
mothers  and  wives  arc  for  devotion. 

I  said  all  the  great  roads  were  lined  by  rows  of  fine  trees. 
These  rows  are  broken  by  many  villages  lying  along  the  high- 
ways. One  is  rarely  out  of  sight,  three  or  four  miles  being  a  long 
interval.  These  villages  are  the  homes  of  the  farmers.  They 
dwell  along  the  road,  it  being  to  them  the  one  street.  The 
farmer's  house  is  rather  a  hut,  and  would  deserve  the  name  of 
hovel  were  it  not  for  the  cleanliness  of  tiic  living  part  of  it.  In 
mere  farm  villages  they  stand  back  a  little  from  the  road,  the 
space  in  front  being  generally  planted  as  a  field,  even  where  such 
space  is  not  over  20  feet. 

I  will  describe  a  house  wliich  may  be  taken  as  typical,  for  these 
people  are  thoroughly  homogeneous,  and,  though  their  dialects  in 
different  localities  differ  one  from  the  other,  yet  the  houses,  dress, 
manners,  and  customs  are  everywhere  the  same.  Imagine  a  house 
of  30  feet  front  and  about  the  same  depth,  now  and  tlien  considera- 
bly deeper.  It  consists  of  a  sill  on  a  loose  stone  foundation. 
Upright  studs  are  set  at  the  corners  and  every  three  feet  between. 
To  these  studs  are  lashed,  with  coarse  grass  thongs,  bamboo  lath. 
On  both  sides  of  this  is  a  smooth  coat  of  plaster,  composed  of 
mud  and  straw.  The  story  is,  say,  nine  feet  high.  Above  this 
springs  a  steep,  hipped  roof  of  thatch.  The  roof  is,  rather,  half- 
hippcd,  for  a  ridge  runs,  say,  ten  feet  along  the  centre.  The 
thatch  is  a  foot  to  20  inches  thick,  very  compact  and  tight.  The 
ridge  rises  a  foot  above  the  comb,  and  is  planted  with  flag  or 
grass,  and  is  always  green.  This  is  to  keep  the  wind  from  tearing 
it  off.  Sometimes  the  whole  roof  is  green  with  the  little  succu- 
lent plant  vulgarly,  called  "  hens  and  chickens."  The  eaves  of 
the  roof  overhang  two,  three,  and  sometimes  four  feet.     The  main 


mt 


itij^ill 


JAPANESE  ENDURANCE. 


77 


story  has  no  ceilings,  but  above  what  should  be  the  ceiling  there 
is  a  partial  one.  This,  and  under  the  hanging  caves  of  the  house, 
is  the  farmer's  barn,  where  he  stores  his  utensils  and  all  of  his  crop 
which  is  not  immediately  sold.  Barns  as  such  are  not  needed. 
The  Japanese  live  from  hand  to  mouth.  Crops  are  sold  as  soon 
as  harvested.  Only  enough  is  stored  for  home  consumption  and 
for  seed.  The  front  of  the  house  is  open  by  day,  but  closed  by 
night.  About  ten  feet  of  one  side  of  the  main  floor  is  of  dirt. 
Here  all  rough  under-covcr  work  is  done,  and  wood,  straw,  and 
materials  for  manufacture  are  kept.  Raised  above  this  is  a  plat- 
form two  and  a  half  feet  high,  covering  the  remainder  of  the 
main  floor  or  house.  On  this  is  a  sunken  hearth,  four  feet  square, 
where  is  built  the  only  fire  the  house  ever  has.  Over  it  hangs  a 
chain  from  tlie  roof ;  it  is  the  pot-rack.  To  it  hang  one  or  two 
pots,  the  bulk  of  the  cooking  utensils.  At  night  the  front  of  the 
house  is  ckxsed  in  by  sliding  wooden  shutters,  and  within,  the 
raised  platform  is  subdivided  at  bedtime  into  as  many  compart- 
ments as  the  family  needs  or  can  afford.  The  floor  is  more  or 
less  polished,  and  is  covered  by  mats.  There  is  no  chimney  ;  the 
sn'.oko  goes  out  at  the  opening  in  the  ridge  or  quite  as  often 
escapes  by  the  door  or  rear  windows,  which  frequently  are  so 
black  as  to  look  untidy.  When  one  reflects  that  there  is  never  a 
fire  which  would  fill  a  half-bushel  measure,  that  tlie  Japanese  wear 
no  woollen  garments,  and  only  sandals  or  clogs  on  their  feet,  that 
the  winters  are  cold  enough  to  make  ice  two  or  three  inches 
thick,  and  that  the  ground  is  often  white  with  snow,  one  wonders 
how  they  live.  There  seems  to  be  something  peculiar  in  their 
physical  make-up,  as  well  as  in  their  plants,  which  enables  them 
to  endure  safely  great  cold.  1  am  told  that  plants  which,  in 
America  are  killed  by  autumn  frosts,  here  live  and  bloom  in  the 
midst  of  snow,  and  when  the  thermometer  has  gone  much  below 
the  freezing-point.  Certainly  the  people  have  wonderful  powers 
of  endurance,  if  their  sensations  are  such  as  ours. 

Every  Japanese,  high  or  low,  takes  his  hot  bath  every  night. 
He  jumps  into  a  vat  of  water  heated  from  115  to  120  degrees, 
and  enjoys  the  boil,  and  yet  when  necessary  stands  for  hours  up 
to  his  waist  in  cold  mountain  torrents,  and  it  is  said  will  break 
the  ice  in  winter  and  work  up  to  his  neck  in  immersion,  seeming 
to  feci  no  ill  effect  from  it.  He  is  certainly  a  wonderful  animal, 
and  etiinological  data  must  yet  be  furnished  to  convince  me  that 
he  be  not  indigenous  to  the  soil  he  lives  on. 


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CHAPTER  XI. 

TEMPI.KS  AND  GODS— TOKIO;  ITS  CAST  I,  K  AND  DKXSK  POPULATION 

— KASV-GOING  TRADESMEN— BKAUTV  OF  THE  YOUNCi  AM) 

UGLINESS  OE  OLD  WOMEN— PKOSTITU'lTON— ELSII. 

A'oh;  Japan,  October  17,    1887. 

Japan  has  five  great  cities :  Tokio,  with  its  population  of  over 
1.250,000:  Kioto  and  Ozaka,  each  witli  a  population  of  over 
250,000;  Nayoya,  with  some  200,000;  and  Yokohama,  with  150,- 
000.  Tokio,  Kioto,  and  Ozaka  arc  the  most  interesting  of  these. 
They  are  great  hives  of  people,  and  bewilder  one  who  rides  or 
walks  through  them.  Each  has  its  castle  or  central  palace,  each 
has  great  temples,  and  densely  populated,  narrow  streets.  I  will 
not  attempt  accurately  to  describe  the  temples.  It  could  not  be 
done,  except  at  the  expense  of  great  prolixity,  without  the  aid 
of  pictures  and  drawings.  They  are  all  of  wood,  with  huge, 
bending,  massively  thick  roofs,  and  large  pillars ;  and  are  either 
elaborately  and  beautifully  lacquered  in  various  tints,  vermilion 
predominating,  or,  being  unpainted  entirely,  have  their  natural 
woods  mellowed  by  time.  The  great  majority  of  the  temples  are 
mausoleums  of  some  great  man  who  has  become  a  deini-god  and 
is  worshipped. 

There  are  two  religions  in  the  land — Shintoism,  the  old  nation- 
al religion,  and  ]5uddhisni.  The  foundation  of  Shintoism  was  a 
worship  of  the  sun,  or  the  sun-goddess,  the  original  creator  of  all 
things.  Following  her  arc  thousands  of  gods,  monsters  of  the 
imagination,  the  denizens  of  mighty  forests  and  lofty  mountains, 
or  horrible  caverns  and  caves,  and  of  belching  volcanoes.  The 
majority  of  them  were  probably  men  in  far  distant  ages,  who 
awakened  men's  fears  by  their  deeds  of  bloodshed  and  rapine,  or 
awakened  their  affections  by  charity  and  acts  of  love.  Their  hu- 
man character  has  been  forgotten  in  the  long  lapse  of  ages,  and 
they  are  now  regarded  as  never  having  been  other  than  super- 
natural. The  great  bulk  of  the  gods,  however,  are  recognized  as 
men  who,  after  death,  were  deified.  The  ancestors  of  every  man 
are  to  him  household  gods,  and  he  chooses  the  one  he  will  wor- 
ship as  such. 

The  shogun  or  tycoon  rulers  of  the  past  arc  all  worshipped  as 
gods.  When  a  ruler  died  his  successor  erected  to  him  a  great 
mausoleum  and  buried  his  body  in  a  tomb  at  its  rear.  The  mauso- 
leum at  once  became  a  temple,  and  the  soul  of  the  dead  man 

78 


TOKIO. 


79 


lives  in  the  inner  shrine  and  is  worshipped  by  the  masses.  Some 
of  these  temples  are  of  great  beauty  in  their  architecture,  and 
their  adornments  are  wonderfully  elaborate  and  rich.  The  two 
richest  temples  in  the  empire  are  at  Nikko,  the  mausoleums  of 
lyeyasu  and  lyemitsu,  the  founders  of  the  late  family  of  shoguns, 
200  and  odd  years  ago.  They  arc  models  of  temple  beauty. 
Here  it  is  that  one  sees  the  wonderful  lacquc  work  for  which 
Japan  is  so  famous.  As  beautiful  as  it  is,  however,  I  was  more 
delighted  with  the  wood  carvings  which  surpassed  any  thing  I  had 
ever  seen.  The  flowers  and  vines  cut  from  wood  seem  to  be 
growing  and  the  birds  to  be  breathing  and  flying.  I  counted  in  a 
frieze  in  a  sort  of  wall  or  fence  around  one  of  the  temples  227 
birds  of  life-size,  in  alto-relievo  so  wonderfully  wrought  and  ex- 
quisitely painted,  that  I  almost  imagined  I  could  sec  them  pant 
and  flutter. 

The  roofs  of  the  temples  are  many  feet  thick,  and  made  up 
of  richest  cornice-work,  the  several  members  all  painted  in 
charming  neutral  tints.  But  I  dare  not  attempt  to  describe 
them,  for  without  the  technical  terms  I  could  not  possibly  enable 
one  to  see  tiicm  with  me.  The  Japanese  have  a  saying :  "See 
'  Nikko  '  b<'f  jre  you  say  '  kekko  '  " — "  See  Nikko  before  you  utter 
the  word  '  Splendid.'  "  I  will  say,  see  Nikko  before  you  attempt 
to  read  of  its  splendors.  The  temples  of  Tokio  are  very  beauti- 
ful, and  are  also  the  burying-place  of  shoguns.  AH  of  the  suc- 
cessors of  lyemitsu  were  buried  here,  except  the  last,  who  was 
expelled  in  1868,  and  is  still  alive  but  will  probably  never  be 
deified. 

It  is  said  that  Tokio  covers  nearly  if  not  quite  as  much  terri- 
tory as  does  London.  It  is  certainly  of  vast  dimensions.  The 
central  portion — the  castle,  as  it  is  called — covers  a  space  several 
miles  in  circumference.  This  comprises  the  first,  second,  and 
third  castles,  the  one  surrounding  the  other,  and  between  each  a 
great  moat  100  to  150  feet  wide.  Each  inner  castle  and  moat  is 
on  a  higher  level  than  the  next  outer  one.  The  inner  side  of 
each  moat  is  bordered  by  a  great  wall  from  60  to  90  feet  high, 
built  of  huge  stone  and  of  massive  strength.  Each  of  these  inner 
castles,  or  divisions  of  the  castle,  is  on  a  level  with  the  top  of  the 
next  outer  wall.  Such  walls  and  moats  i^re  zigzag  or  serpentine 
in  line.  These  so-called  castles  are  not  such  according  to  our 
ideas.  They  are  simply  enclosed  spaces,  and  could  be  success- 
ively defended  in  case  of  an  attack.  The  outer  one  being  taken, 
the  ne.xt  became  a  strong  fortification.  The  inner  castle  of  all, 
which  covers  several  hundred  acres,  was  the  home  of  the  shoguns. 
The  mikado  is  now  erecting  a  magnificent  palace  in  place  of  the 
old  one,  which  was  burned  down,  as  everything  is  sooner  or  later 
in  Japan.  This  inner  castle  is  a  garden  or  park  covered  with 
magnificent  trees,  and  is  beautifully  laid  out  so  as  to  represent  a 
thoroughly  rural  locality,  with  lakes,  streams,  meadows,  woods, 


8o 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


■'  *■  ', 


and  thickets.  We  had  a  permit  to  go  through  the  grounds  and 
found  them  very  picturesque,  with  running  streams,  rocky  water- 
falls, thickets  of  bamboo  of  great  height,  dense  jungles,  and 
beautiful  gardens.  The  two  outer  castles  are  occupied  by  gov- 
ernment buildings  and  some  of  the  city  residences  of  the  nobles. 
This  portion  of  the  city,  however,  has  but  a  thin  population. 
Outside  the  outer  moat  is  the  main  city,  stretching  for  miles 
from  this  imperial  centre.  The  houses  are  of  one  and  two  stories 
in  height,  except  the  public  buildings.  These  latter  are  all 
European  in  form  and  architecture. 

Formerly  the  daimios  were  compelled  to  spend  a  part  of  each 
year  at  the  shogun's  capital,  and  large  spaces  of  ground  were 
allotted  them  in  the  outer  castle,  on  which  tliey  erected  great 
quadrangular  buildings  resembling  barracks,  each  covering  many 
acres,  for  themselves  and  their  numerous  retainers.  In  tliis  way 
the  shogun  forced  tiiem  to  expend  a  large  part  of  their  vast 
revenues,  wrung  from  the  poor  serfs,  to  adorn  his  capital,  and  was 
at  the  same  time  enabled  to  keep  his  eye  upon  them  and  to  pre- 
vent them  from  becoming  too  powerful  in  tlieir  great  baronies. 
It  is  said  that  many  of  these  daimios  had  revenues  running  into 
many  lumdreds  of  thousands  of  dollars,  and  had  at  their  command 
men  enough  to  form  hu-e  armies.  During  the  past  two  and  a 
half* centuries,  while  the  foreigner  was  absolutely  locked  out  of 
Japan,  the  nation  was  one  of  spies.  No  man  dared  speak,  for  the 
very  walls  had  ears,  and  no  man  of  rank  knew  when  he  might  receive 
a  secret  command  to  commit  hari-kari.  This  espionage  went  into 
the  very  nature  of  men  of  all  ranks,  and  was  the  source  of  the 
worst  ot  this  people's  rather  national  characteristics — suspicious- 
ness. Even  in  the  little  time  we  have  been  here,  I  have  seen  this 
disposition  cropping  out  among  all  with  wIkmii  we  have  had  deal- 
ings. They  are  ready  to  be  suspicious  of  every  one  with  whom 
they  come  in  contact.  Time  may  undo  this  blot,  but  it  will  take 
a  long  time  of  fair  dealing.  If  the  present  march  of  improvement 
and  its  consequent  large  expenditure  of  money  should  end  in  a 
collapse,  I  much  fear  that  the  suspiciousness  of  the  people  may 
cause  them  to  lay  it  to  the  foreign  ideas  which  are  so  cultivated, 
and  cause  them  to  take  a  reactionary  step  which  will  require  years 
to  undo. 

While  I  write  I  hear  a  bagpiper's  dulcet  tones  upon  the  street 
and  the  loud  voice  of  some  jolly  Scot  in  wild  hurrah.  I  look  at 
my  watch  and  find  the  night  has  reached  the  ''  wee  sma'  hours 
ayont  the  twal."  To  bed  I  go,  but  not  immediately  to  sleep. 
The  hurrah  is  kept  up  ;  the  bagpipes  screech  and  wheeze  in 
wildest  slogan.  Dozens  of  voices  yell  out,  "  Eall  in — march  !  " 
and  there  are  none  to  fall  in  but  those  who  give  the  orders.  Each 
fellow  sees  just  fourscore  kilted  Highlandmen  in  line,  for  he  has 
put  a  glass  before  his  eyes  this  night. 

I  find  on  getting  up  this  morning  that  there  was  a  regatta  yes- 


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POLITICAL  REFORMATION. 


8i 


terday,  and  a  club  feast.  The  whole  "  concession  "  seemed  to  be 
jolly,  if  one  judged  by  the  hurrah  I  heard  last  night ;  and  all  were 
apparently  Scotch.  It  is  wonderful  how  quickly  the  bagpipe  and 
'he  juice  of  Scotch  rye  will  manufacture  true  sons  of  Scotia,  or 
will  multiply  a  few  into  an  uproarious  host,  ready 

"  \Vi'  tippeny,  to  fear  nae  evil, 
Wi'  usquebae  to  face  the  devil." 


But  I  was  speaking  of  the  daimio  residences  in  Tokio.  All  of 
these  have  been  turned  into  manufacturing  establishments,  or 
have  been  torn  down.  The  daimios  claim  great  credit  for  the 
part  they  played  when  the  shogunate  was  abolished  and  their  own 
vast  feudal  rights  and  possessions  were  abandoned.  The  claim 
may  be  somewhat  just,  but  it  is  rather  too  much  to  believe  that 
the  doings  of  '68  and  '69  were  noble  acts  of  self-abnegation.  It  is 
easier  to  think  that  they  had  the  wit  to  comprehend  the  inevita- 
ble, and  the  courage  to  face  the  music.  How  much  more  com- 
mendable and  manly  than  the  miserable  egotism  and  grimace  the 
French  Noblesse  paraded  before  the  world  during  the  first  half 
of  the  century  just  ending.  The  samurai  made,  I  believe,  no 
pretense  of  patriotic  self-immolation.  They  had  been  lording  it 
over  the  land,  and  were  so  used  to  the  carrying  of  arms  at  all 
times  that  they  did  not  quit  with  grace,  but  resisted  a  I'outrance 
and  only  surrendered  when  the  inevitable  was  upon  them  with 
crushing  weight.  It  may  have  been  imagination,  but  I  have  a 
great  many  times,  in  the  streets  and  roads,  met  men  whose  heads 
seemed  more  proudly  lifted  upon  their  shoulders  than  was  natural, 
and  whose  curled  lips  and  haughty,  fierce  eyes  seemed  to  tell  me 
how  the  owner  hated  the  foreigner  and  detested  his  ways. 

I  was  about,  however,  to  tell  you  of  the  great  city  of  Tokio, 
outside  of  the  outer  moat.  The  streets,  as  are  nearly  all  streets 
in  the  land,  are  very  narrow,  the  majority  being  of  the  width  of 
our  narrow  alleys.  There  are  no  sidewalks.  The  ground-floor — 
the  genuine  re::  dc  cliaiissde  of  the  houses — runs  into  the  street 
pavement.  Each  little  house  is  shop,  workshop,  and  residence  of 
the  occupant.  If  there  be  a  second  story,  it  is  not  over  eight  feet 
high.  One  at  once  asks,  hov/  do  all  these  people  live  in  these 
little  coops?  He  goes  to  the  rear  of  these  small  buildings,  and 
finds  there  are  no  back  yards  and  gardens  such  as  we  are  accus- 
tomed to.  The  whole  square  or  block  is  filled  with  houses,  one 
behind  another,  packed  together  as  honeycombs  are  packed  in 
beehives,  and  the  people  move  in  and  out  among  each  other  and 
over  each  other  as  bees  do  in  reaching  their  cells.  The  streets, 
narrow  and  crooked  lanes,  running  in  all  directions,  twisting,  turn- 
ing, zigzagging,  and  winding,  are  crowded  with  people,  all  engaged, 
ciU  bus)^  but  apparently  busy  in  doing  little  things.  All,  while 
busy,  dv  what  they  have  to  do  with  an  air  of  nonchalant  uncon- 


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82 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


ri 


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It 


cern,  which  is  odd  and  strange  to  an  American,  accustomed  to  see 
men'work  as  if  to-morrow  they  had  to  die,  and  do  they  must  and 
must  do  to-day.     Is  ours  the  better  mode  ?  J' en  doute. 

The  inevitable  charcoal  brazier  and  teapot  is  close  beside  every 
dealer  and  every  worker.  The  dealer  takes  two  or  three  whiffs  at 
his  little  haif-thimble-sized  pipe,  inhales  the  smoke,  blows  it  from 
his  nose  in  a  white  cloud,  and  closes  his  bargain.  The  carpenter 
draws  his  plane  or  drives  his  chisel,  then  takes  two  or  three  whiffs 
from  his  pipe,  knocks  out  the  ashes,  and  goes  on  with  his  work,  or 
stops  to  finish  the  game  of  checkers  with  his  fellow-workmen,  or 
perhaps  with  his  employer.  Every  one  works  as  if  there  was  no 
limit  to  his  time  and  no  necessity  for  hurry,  and  yet  the  work  is 
done,  for  they  labor  from  the  very  dawn  far  into  night.  It  is  no 
uncommon  thing  to  hear  the  hammer  or  heavy  rice-beater  pound- 
ing long  after  the  outer  shutters  are  put  up,  and  the  house  looks 
as  if  there  was  no  living  thing  within,  or  tiiat  all  were  wrapped  in 
night.  Houses  in  which  arc  forges  cannot  be  so  closed  up  at  night, 
so  that  one  sees  the  glow  of  the  fire  and  sees  Vulcans  hammering  by 
the  light  of  their  little  furnaces  as  late  as  ten  and  eleven  o'clock. 
But  all  is  done  easily  and  leisurely.  As  a  gentleman  of  colored 
persuasion,  formerly  of  Philadelphia,  whom  I  met  on  a  holiday 
excursion,  with  his  Japanese  wife  and  semi-pickaninnies,  told  me, 
'They  never  strain  tharsclves,  sah  !  " 

The  streets  are  crooked  and  twisted.  When  one  takes  a 
"  kumura  "  or  jinrickisha  for  a  run  to  a  distant  part  of  the  town, 
more  or  less  beyond  the  castle  centre,  he  is  amazed  at  the  tortu- 
ous doubling  his  man  makes  to  reacii  it,  and  wonders  how  he  can 
find  his  way  ;  the  streets  have  such  innumerable  windings,  and  all 
look  as  much  alike  as  the  faces  in  a  flock  of  sheep.  But  the  man 
will  pull  you  at  a  dashing  pace  by  day,  or  even  by  night  when  all 
is  dark,  with  only  a  paper  lantern  here  and  there,  no  names  on 
street  corners,  and  each  street  resembling  another  as  a  row  of 
corn  resembles  its  neighbor.  He  seems  to  find  his  way  by 
instinct,  and  is  never  at  a  loss. 

The  Japanese  are  thoroughly  homogeneous.  While  there  may 
be  said  to  be  different  types  among  them,  they  all  have  certain 
characteristics  in  common,  and  as  far  as  I  have  seen,  some  never 
failing  ones.  The  eyes  are  not  almond-shaped,  like  the  Chinese, 
but  generally  set  slanting  inward.  The  upper  lid,  however,  never 
fails  to  be  somewhat  drawn  at  the  inner  curve,  as  if  the  skin  of 
this  lid  was  somewhat  thick  and  inflexible  and  too  short.  This 
seems  to  be  absolutely  universal.  All  have  enormous  heads  of 
crow-black  straight  hair,  except  now  and  then  one  sees  a  brownish 
tint  among  children  under  eight  or  ten,  as  if  sun-burnt.  This, 
however,  cannot  be  the  cause,  for  few  grown  people  wear  any 
head-covering,  except  working  in  the  sun  when  high.  Then  they 
put  on,  among  the  cooly  class,  straw  hats.  These  are  of  sev- 
eral varieties,  but  generally  resemble  a  large  inverted  water-bowl 


BEAUTY  OF  JAPANESE  YOUTH. 


83 


in  form.  The  rich  or  better-to-do.  are  bare-headed  everywhere, 
and  carry  umbrellas  when  the  sun  is  hot.  In  rainy  weather  the 
working-classes  wear  a  sort  of  rain-hat  about  two  feet  in  diam- 
eter, shaped  like  a  straight-ribbed  parasol.  This  is  set  on  top  of 
the  head  and  held  by  a  straw  thong  tied  under  the  chin.  In 
addition  to  this,  they  wear  a  rain-coat,  or  mantle,  made  of  coarse 
grass.  Some  of  these  resemble  a  simple  mat  thrown  over  the 
shoulders.  The  real  national  rain-coat,  however,  is  a  mass  of  dry 
grass,  woven  together,  about  the  neck  and  hanging  in  grassy 
fringe  nearly  to  the  knees.  This  costume  is  decidedly  pictu- 
resque, especially  when  the  water  is  dripping  from  the  fringe. 
The  heads  of  the  grass  hang  towards  the  bottom.  It  takes  a 
heavy  rain  to  wet  the  wearer. 

In  and  tiirough  the  city  (as  such)  of  Tokio  runs  a  considerable 
river  and  many  canals.  They  carry  comir.ercc  of  a  heavy  character 
to  distant  parts,  which  would  be  excessively  laborious  to  a  people 
who  have  no  horses.  But  I  have  wandered  from  the  subject  I 
was  talking  of — the  physiological  characteristics  of  the  Japanese. 
I  think  I  have  discovered  another  peculiarity.  When  waited 
upon  by  the  girls  in  the  hotels  I  was  struck  by  the  delicacy  and 
beautv  of  their  hands.  Their  finger-nails  would  be  the  admira- 
tion  of  a  manicure.  I  also  thought  I  saw  a  peculiar  shortness  of 
the  little  finger,  as  compared  to  the  third.  I  have  thought  this 
peculiarity  common  to  all.  I  have  watched,  but  not  having  lan- 
guage to  excuse  a  desired  scrutiny,  and  being  modest  in  the 
extreme,  I  have  only  seen  from  casual  observation.  There  is  very 
great  difference  in  the  complexion  of  the  people.  One  sees  riany 
girls  ami  boys  as  fair  as  the  Caucasian— beautiful,  clear,  \v'hite 
complexions,  with  more  of  the  cream  under-tint  than  the  starchy 
white  of  the  Knglish  blonde.  The  masses,  however,  are  dark. 
The  young  have  a  higher  average  of  good  looks  than  any  other 
people  I  know,  particularly  those  from  ten  to  twenty  years.  The 
very  young  children  are  not  so  nice  to  look  at.  A  cold  in  the 
head  seems  universal  among  them,  and  the  nose  seems  never  to 
know  a  handkerchief.  They  appear  to  enjoy  the  dripping,  as 
a  bull-dog  delights  to  have  ropes  of  slaver  hanging  from  his 
under-jaw.  But  one  sees  a  great  many  handsome  boys  and 
pretty  girls,  from  ten  years  up,  many  of  them  of  rare  beauty.  I 
believe  I  have  seen  far  more  beautiful  young  women  in  the  past 
six  weeks  than  I  ever  did  before  in  as  many  years.  I  do  not  mean 
the  high,  refined  beauty  of  one  of  our  really  beautiful  women, 
but  lithe  and  rounded  forms,  undulating  motions,  which  the  awk- 
ward clog-gait  cannot  wholly  overcome;  well  turned  and  finely 
chiselled  features;  rosy,  budding  mouths;  dark,  soft,  and  expres- 
sive eyes  ;  massy  crowns  of  black  hair,  always  perfectly  coiffured; 
and  with-all  a  thoroughly  womanly,  modest  expression  of  face, 
and  beautiful  complexions,  running  up  from  the  nut-brown  to 
the  pure,  creamy  white.     Such  as  these,  are  to  be  seen  every- 


;  i;,^ 


rj 


'( 


\  II 


'\ 


\ ' 


84 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\x 


\'%\ 


I 


where  as  one  runs  tlirougli  the  hind.  The  fair  complexion  does 
not  seem  to  belong  to  the  upper  classes,  as  I  had  been  led  to 
suppose.  One  sees  a  perfect  complexion  on  a  waiter-girl  in  a 
hotel,  and  I  have  seen  many  such  on  young  women  picking  cotton 
near  the  roadway;  while  among  officials  at  Tokio,  and  indeed, 
everywhere,  we  find  very  swarthy  people.  Count  Itto,  the  real  head 
of  tiie  nation  at  this  time,  and  the  commanding  general  who 
entertained  us  at  the  old  castle  at  Nagoya.  arc  both  of  dark, 
copper-colored,  chestnut  hue,  and  the  Countess  Itto  looked  to 
mc.  in  a  hurried  passing,  as  dark  as  one  of  our  octoroons,  but 
without  the  yellow  tinge.  This  dark  tint  among  officials  is 
owing  to  tile  fact  that  they  belong  to  the  bold  soldier  caste,  and 
camc'originail)-  from  Kinshiu  and  Shikokou,  the  great  islands  be- 
yond the  inland  sea.  There  the  people  are  dark,  and  more  brave 
and  hardy  than  those  r>f  Hondo  and  Niphon,  the  main  island. 

While  the  young  girls  and  young  women  are  pretty,  I  can  say  but 
little  in  praise  of  the  old  ones.  When  married  they  color  tiic  teeth 
to  a  gloss\-  black,  shave  the  eyebrows,  and  pluck  the  lashes.  This 
is  said  to  be  done  to  jirove  that  henceforth  tiiey  do  not  desire 
the  admiration  of  any  but  their  husbands.  Poor  fools,  they  do 
not  know  that  some  of  the  brightest  men  of  the  century  have 
gravely  asked  the  question  if  tlie  tinkling  of  the  marriage-bell 
does  not  toll  the  funeral  knell  of  love,  even  in  lands  where 
marriage  is  really  the  commencement  of  female  adornment.  But 
aside  from  this  custom,  the  women  here  do  not  wear  their  good 
looks  long.  They  toil,  bear  babies,  and  rapidly  grow  old.  One 
superadding  cause  of  this  I  suspect  to  be  the  habit  of  nursing 
their  children  at  their  breast  until  four  and  five  years  of  age. 
We  have  frequently  seen  children  plaj'ing  and  romping  with 
their  mates  in  the  streets,  then  suddenl)-  stop,  rush  to  their 
mothers,  and  draw  from  the  breasts  their  own  lunches  and  the 
verj-  life  of  the  poor  women.  They  never  wean  a  child  until 
another  comes  to  take  its  place,  and  it  is  no  unusual  thing  for 
the  two  to  divide  the  produce  of  the  dairy,  if  it  be  a  plentiful 
one.  It  is  said  this  custom  is  so  prevalent  because  there  are  no 
cows  which  give  milk  to  speak  of,  and  no  food  other  than  moth- 
er's milk  to  bring  the  youngster  through  the  teething  season.  In 
spite  of  this,  however,  the  mortality,  as  shown  b)-  statistics,  among 
children  is  simply  frightful.  This  is  hard  to  understand,  for  the 
children  are  in  great  numbers  everywhere.  They  are  tumbling 
and  playing  in  the  streets  ;  they  make  the  welkin  ring  in  the  ham- 
lets and  villages,  and  when  we  have  been  on  the  road  as  early  as 
seven  in  the  morning,  we  would  meet  or  pass  them  by  the  hun- 
dreds on  the  country  highways,  on  their  way  to  school,  all  with 
little  baskets  for  their  books  and  luncheon,  and  with  their  droll 
counting-tables  strapped  to  their  backs.  Education  is  compul- 
sory, with  certain  exceptions  I  have  not  been  enabled  to  learn. 

Will   the   extension   of  education   put  a  stop  to  one   of  the 


JAPANESE  IMMORALITY. 


•I 


strangest  of  all  this  country's  institutions — its  public  prostitu- 
tion ?  Large  sections  of  every  city  arc  set  aside  for  this  purpose. 
In  Tokio  it  is  a  suburb,  but  in  many  places  the  establishments 
arc  in  the  most  frequented  localities  and  close  to  the  temples. 
Every  house  in  such  localities  is  devoted  to  the  demi-monde. 
Some  of  them  are  of  palatial  splendor — two,  three,  and  now  and 
then  four  stories  in  height.  At  night  these  arc  a  blaze  of  light. 
The  first  story  has  in  front  a  light  wicker  screen,  not  unlike  the 
bars  of  a  cage  in  a  menagerie,  only  being  of  wood.  Behind 
these  sit  the  girls,  dressed  in  their  finest  toggery,  eating  confec- 
tions, drinking  tea,  and  looking  their  best.  In  some  of  these 
show-rooms  one  will  see,  according  to  the  size  of  the  house, 
all  the  way  from  a  dozen  to  30  or  40.  They  are  so 
whitened  by  cosmetics  that  their  faces  assume  an  unnatural 
and  almost  ghastly  look.  They  are  all  mortgaged  to  the  keeper 
by  their  parents,  or  by  themselves,  for  a  longer  or  shorter  period. 
Music  abounds  in  these  streets.  One  sees  in  Tokio  several  thou- 
sand of  these  girls,  all  sitting  with  perfect  decorum,  nothing  be- 
ing done  that  is  unseemly  in  outward  ajjpearance.  The  streets 
arc  crowded  with  men  of  all  ages  ;  and  frequently  there  will  be 
seen  a  father,  with  his  wife  and  children,  walking  up  and  down 
and  looking  at  the  show.  Among  these  children,  with  their 
parents,  are  females.  Now  and  then  a  girl  is  called  to  the 
bars  and  talks  with  a  friend,  a  lover,  or  a  passing  admirer.  One 
by  one  the  girls  drop  out  to  entertain  a  friend  or  lover.  And  in 
such  places  men  often  find  wives,  and  not  a  few  of  them  arc  now 
in  good  society  in  the  nation's  capital.  With  these  exhibitions 
it  is  not  to  be  wondercil  at  that  the  good  wife  of  a  missionary 
said  tliat  the  Japanese  were  the  most  immoral  people  on  earth. 
I  had  to  confess  that  the  immorality  was  more  patent  than  any- 
where else.  But,  after  all,  does  the  ostrich  destroy  its  enemy 
when  it  sticks  its  own  head  beneath  the  sand?  Let  wise  men 
look  the  evil  straiglit  in  the  face  and  do  their  earnest  best  to 
undo  it  as  far  as  is  compatible  with  humanity;  but  do  not  let 
the  love  of  morality — true  soul  morality — degenerate  into  sickly 
scntimentalit}',  or  into  pharisaical  outward  form.  It  is  a  sad 
thing  to  see  this  horrible  depravity  here,  stalking  openly  in  the 
blaze  of  light,  but  sadder  far  to  think  tiiat  in  Christian  America 
and  Europe  the  same  exists,  only  under  cover,  and  that  thou- 
sands sink  into  wretched  graves  from  the  unholy  life,  and  that 
countless  thousands  of  our  good  people  pay  no  attention  to  the 
leprosy,  except  to  demand  that  it  be  kept  out  of  sight,  and  that 
their  nerves  be  not  shocked  by  its  open  view.  The  Japanese 
seem  never  to  have  wakened  to  the  thought  that  this  sin  is  one 
of  the  most  hideous  of  all ;  or,  indeed,  that  it  is  a  sin  at  all ; 
otherwise  parents  surely  would  not  take  their  young  children, 
both  boys  and  girls,  to  look  upon  it. 

They  do  not  take  them  to  be  shocked  by  its  deformity,  for  no 


!i 


V    I 


I'-t 


■i 


K  U 


!  J 


86 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


iil-i 


m 


deformity  is  seen— all  is  decorous,  and,  to  the  eye,  pretty.  No 
ribald  jest  is  iieard  or  permitted,  either  within  the  bars,  by  the 
girls,  or  witlioiit,  by  tlic  crowds  who  look  upon  them.  Police 
are  ever  on  the  watch.  There  is  no  look  of  shame  or  sadness  on 
the  faces  of  the  poor  creatures  thus  put  up  for  sale.  They  are 
beautifully  dressed  and  seem  amu.sed  at  the  interest  they  awaken, 
and  their  eyes  dance  when  an  admirer  beckons  them  to  the  rail 
for  a  chat.  It  is  known  that  when  they  go  out  of  their  bondage 
its  scars  are  not  left  upon  limb  or  forehead.  There  is  nothing 
to  say  to  the  young:  "Look,  tremble,  and  beware!"  It  is  a 
strange  phase  of  the  strange  civilization  of  this  strange  people. 

There  is  a  great  inland  commerce  constantly  going  on  among 
these  jjcople.  Nothing  is  so  small  as  to  have  no  value.  One 
sees  bushels  of  fish  no  larger  than  a  baby's  little  finger  on  the 
stalls,  and  sca-cocklcs  smaller  than  our  little  snails,  while  nc  ••  by 
will  be  wiggling  eels  three  feet  long,  the  peeled  head  an('  rms 
of  great  devil  fish,  anil  the  fins  and  steaks  of  monster  ^  rks. 
With  all  the  anomalous  productiveness  of  the  soil,  producing  for 
centuries,  j'car  after  year,  great  double  crops  ;  j'ot  the  land  is  not 
more  bountiful  than  is  the  water.  It  is  saiil  there  are  several 
millions  of  people  actually  engaged  in  taking  fish  from  the  sea, 
and  this  has  been  going  on  from  time  immemorial,  and  still  the 
.sea  never  tires  of  its  generosit)'.  Fishes  spawned  in  icy  regions 
are  caught  in  the  same  waters  here  with  those  which  ordinarily 
are  found  only  within  the  tropics,  all  in  boundless  quantities, 
and  many  of  them  of  finest  flavor.  The  su|)ply  does  not  seem 
diminished  by  the  catch.  This  is  true  of  lake  fish  as  well  as  of 
those  of  the  sea. 

Gov.  Hubbard  did  us  the  honor  to  give  us  an  elegant  lunch. 
The  "  tai  "  u|)oii  his  table  was  superior  to  any  red  snapper  I 
have  eaten,  and  good  fries  are  to  be  had  in  every  hotel.  The 
inland  waters,  too,  are  almost  as  prolific  as  the  sea.  Every 
stream  and  lake  has  its  fish.  There  arc  on  Lake  Biwa  quite 
good-sized  towns,  the  bulk  of  whose  people  are  fishermen  upon 
its  waters.  The  salmon  trout,  and  two  or  three  kinds  of  speckled 
trout  are  in  the  cold  lakes  and  mountain  streams  in  abundance. 
The  people  all  fish,  from  little  fellows  of  six  and  eight  years  up. 
One  sees  little  toddlers  catching  crabs  as  large  as  the  crown  of  a 
hat  in  small  irrigating  streams,  and  others  on  the  salt  bays  fishing 
■with  a  line  and  hook  for  shrimps  and  tiny  minnows.  Parents 
never  seem  to  think  it  possible  their  children  should  drown. 
Little  troops  are  seen  along  rushing  torrents  and  climbing  on  the 
rocky  walls  of  deep  canals  with  such  apparent  recklessness  that  a 
stranger  trembles  for  their  safety.  They  seem  to  have  an  in- 
stinct  of  self-protection,  as  little  animals  have. 


,  \  ■■■ 


CHAPTER  XII. 

UEAUTY  OF  JAPANESE  SCENERY— TERRACED  FARMS— THE  INLAND 

SEAANDNACASAKI— MISSIONARIES— CIIEERIUI.NESSOI'  NATIVE 

WORKERS— SWEET  liUT  SAD  THGUllUlS  (JN  (QUITTING  JAPAN. 

Steamship  ''Port  Augusta"  Octo'<er  26,  1887. 

Our  tour  through  Japan  has  been  one  of  pleasure,  but  at  the 
same  time  one  of  no  Httle  toil.  We  had  so  little  tiiac  at  our  dis- 
posal, and  there  was  so  much  to  be  seen,  that  vc  have  been 
forced  to  be  up  early  and  generally  to  bed  late  We  have  had  no 
easy  coaches  in  which  to  ride  and  look,  and  to  rest  as  we  rode 
md  as  we  looked.  The  jinrickisha,  although  in  many  respects  a. 
most  delightful  conveyance,  is  yet  one  that  causes  great  fatigue 
when  constantly  employed,  and  for  such  long  stretches  as  we 
have  used  it.  The  tread  is  so  narrow  that  the  slightest  inequal- 
ity on  the  road  brings  sidelong  jolts,  which  cannot  be  resisted. 
A  run  of  50  to  60  miles  a  day  in  one  of  these  little  man-sulkies 
is  followed  by  a  somewhat  racking  pain  in  the  small  of  the 
back,  and  causes  the  traveller  to  feel  very  stiff  when  he  ends 
his  Course.  It  is  tiien  that  the  blind  massage-rubber  comes  de- 
lightfully into  play. 

We  were  anxious  to  sec  and  study  the  country  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, without  an\'  attempt  or  pretence  of  diving  deep  into  any 
subject  or  of  solving  national  problems,  but  rather  to  place  our- 
selves in  a  position  which  would  enable  us  to  study  and  under- 
stand what  we  may  read  and  hear  when  we  shall  have  leisure. 
My  letters  are  intended  to  enable  others  to  sec  somewhat  the 
things  I  may  see,  so  that  they  can  more  intelligently  study  the 
country  \\..  pass  through,  in  the  writings  of  others  who  may 
claim  to  know  more  than  we  know  and  to  understand  what  we 
simply  observe  on  the  surface.  Hut  while  we  have  employed  our 
time  in  such  way  as  to  make  it  as  practically  useful  as  possible, 
we  have  endeavored  to  enjoy  the  novelty  of  our  position  and  the 
beauties  of  our  surroundings.  In  other  words,  to  be  tourists  as 
well  as  students.  The  Americans  are  to-day  the  greatest  tourists 
of  the  world.  To  these  I  shall  devote  this — my  last  Japanese 
letter,  and  shall  try  to  show  them  how,  when  they  have  done  up 
the  European  continent,  and  fully  enjoyed  the  vast  field  of  beauty 
afforded  by  our  own  land  and  by  the  Canadian  dominion,  this 
old-new  empire  will  offer  them  a  great  dea'  which  will  be  entirely 
novel  among  men,  their  manner  and  works,  and  at  the  same  time 

8? 


m 


[  I 


1^ 


\\\ 


Ss\ 


h 


m 


liM 


ill! 


f: 


'     i 


!        I 

I  M 


;      r 


t  ■;  ' 


88 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


a  mass  of  varied  and  beautiful  scenery,  unsurpassed,  if  not  un- 
equalcd,  anywiiere  else  they  may  have  been. 

We  have  been  f&.ccd  to  forego  visiting  many  localities  said 
to  be  of  great  beauty,  but  have  visited  enough  to  get  samples  of 
each  and  every  kind  of  scenery.  VVc  were  top  late  to  climb  Fuji, 
from  whose  lofty  cone  the  panorama  is  said  to  be  equal  to  any  in 
the  world.  But  we  have  had  fine  views  from  considerable  heights. 
We  saw  no  snow-clad  pinnacles  piercing  the  sky  as  in  the  Alps, 
nor  yet  the  home-like  landscapes  one  sees  in  England.  There 
are  no  homes  nestled  down  in  copses  of  wood,  or  mansions  sur- 
rounded by  lordly  parks.  The  music  of  no  distant  church-bell 
reaches  and  lulls  us,  nor  do  the  carol  of  the  mountain  herdsman, 
the  chants  des  vaches,  come  in  wav>'  deliciousness  from  any  dis- 
tant lofty  pasturage.  But  in  place  of  these,  one  looks  upon 
mountains  cutting  the  sky  with  lofty  cone.^  green  to  the  very 
summit,  and  clothed  in  a  wealth  of  forests  far  up  their  sloping 
sides— range.-}  of  hills  from  1,000  to  5,000  feet  high,  not  stretch- 
ing in  fatiguing  sameness,  but  notched,  biokon,  bent  in  short 
curves,  then  lilting  into  sharp  points,  never  the  same  in  any 
direction,  and  never  hurting  the  eye  by  rocky  coldness  or  sandy 
or  brown  barrenness.  Few  peaks  e.\ist  in  the  land  so  lofty  as  to 
reach  beyond  the  line  of  vegetation.  When  tfie  tree-line  is  passed 
there  comes  grassy  verdure  so  luxuriant  that  the  tall  heights 
seem  clothed  in  emerald  velvet.  One  looks  far  up  narrow  valleys, 
which  elsewhere  would  be  wild  gorges,  and  sees  them  terraced 
far  into  their  depths  and  variegated  with  various  crops  in  all 
stages  of  maturity,  from  those  but  lately  planted  and  freshly 
green,  to  others  golden  and  ready  for  the  sickle.  Every  moun- 
tain slope,  every  mountain  gorge,  is  thus  terraced  as  far  up  as 
streams  offer  the  opportunity  for  irrigation. 

In  other  lands  fields  on  level  flats  only  are  supposed  to  be  capa- 
ble of  artificial  watering,  but  hure  one  sees  even  rice  fields  2,000 
and  upward  feet  above  the  sea  on  mountain  slopes  which  any- 
where I  have  heretofore  been  would  have  been  entirely  aban- 
doned to  pasturage.  Tlie  climate  is  so  humid  tiiat  brooks  have 
their  sources  very  near  the  summits  of  ranges.  These  brooks  are 
caught  and  made  to  flood  little  fields,  frequently  only  a  few  feet 
wide.  The  overflow  covers  another  range  of  fields  a  little  lower 
down,  then  runs  into  the  stream  to  water  farms  on  yet  lower 
grounds  and  in  the  valleys.  In  some  of  the  mountain  ranges, 
which  are  composed  of  disintegrated  granite,  there  are  no  springs. 
In  such,  the  winter  and  earl\-  rains  are  caught  and  held  in  ponds 
and  lakelets,  some  only  a  few  feet  across,  oth';rs  larger,  till  one 
sees  some  of  them  pretty  little  artificial  lakes  of  from  a  quarter 
of  an  acre  in  size  up  to  one  or  more  acres.  The  embankments 
holding  these  waters  are  often  20  to  40  feet  high,  and  the  ponds 
are  stocked  with  fine  fish.  These  artificial  reservoirs  enable  fields 
10  wave  in  green  where  otherwise  all  would  be  desolation,  and 


o 
o 


o 


o 
oe 


> 


I^V^'J 


•  !  i  '  li 


i  '    ^'  ^.  V^  if; 


v^^ 


PICTURESQUE  FARMS  AND  VILLAGES. 


89 


help  to  make  pretty  landscapes  where,  but  for  them,  all  would  be 
barren  and  unsightly.  In  some  of  these  upper  farm-lands,  the 
tourist  is  charmed  by  the  quaint  sight  of  rice,  after  harvest,  hung 
to  dry  on  the  gnarled  branches  of  the  umbrella  pine  and  other 
spreading  trees.  Often  rice  is  thus  hung  on  branches  30  and  40 
feet  above  the  ground,  and  at  nightfall  reminds  one  of  the  moss- 
grown  trees  of  Louisiana,  only  the  rice  hangs  in  thicker  masses 
than  ever  the  mosses  grow.  Rice,  by  the  way,  here  is  nearly  al- 
ways hung  to  dry  when  harvested.  Rain  is  so  frequent  and  dews 
so  heavy  that  it  cannot  be  dried  except  along  road-edges  or  on 
poles  or  trees. 

The  system  of  terracing  mountain  sides  for  general  farm  pur- 
poses is,  as  far  as  I  know,  peculiar  to  Japan.  On  the  Rhine  and 
in  France  and  Italy  steep  slopes  are  thus  managed,  to  make  them 
the  homes  of  the  grape,  but  the  localities  are  few  and  the  extent 
so  small  that  one  can  refer  to  them  only  to  enable  you  to  know 
how  millions  here  obtain  their  entire  farming  land  by  thus  wrest- 
ing it  from  worthlessness.  This  system  of  terrace-farming  is  one 
of  the  great  sources  of  beauty  in  Japanese  scenery.  In  many 
lands  farms  on  plains  are  pretty  when  viewed  from  heights.  In 
Belgium  and  parts  of  Germany  it  is  a  pleasing  sight  to  look  down 
on  the  long,  narrow  fields  in  different  crops,  looking  like  old- 
fashioned  carpets  woven  in  rows  of  different  colors ;  but  here  the 
fields  are  so  small  and  so  irregular  in  shape,  being  cut  into  every 
form  to  enable  the  level  to  be  preserved,  that  one  looks  down 
upon  a  patchwork,  a  genuine  crazy  quilt,  of  a  dozen  different 
colorings.  Then,  too,  here  trees  on  all  plains  are  more  or  less 
abundant — little  fields  arc  grown  in  mulberry,  others  in  bamboo, 
still  others  in  orchards  of  low,  trained  pears  and  plums.  Persim- 
mons, golden  with  their  beautiful  fruits,  some  larger  than  hens' 
eggs  and  shajied  like  them,  are  about  every  village,  and  trees 
skirt  every  large  irrigating  ditch  or  canal,  so  that  the  flattest 
river  estuaries  are  variegated  and  pretty.  Tiio  Japanese  persimmon 
is  a  verj-  fine  fruit,  and  when  dried  is  a  good  substitute  for  the 
fig.  Villages  are  so  plentiful  that  no  plain  is  without  several  in 
view.  From  the  old  feudal  castle  at  Nagoya  we  counted  70  odd 
villages  in  sight  to  the  naked  eye — villages  of  all  sizes,  those  of 
30  or  40  houses  up  to  others  of  500. 

In  the  mountains  many  of  the  villages  and  little  towns  are  ex- 
ceedingly picturesque,  hanging  on  tlie  sides  of  the  gorges;  houses 
perched  on  projecting  rocks  overlooking  feathery  cascades  ;  houses 
so  close  together  that  the  little  streets  are  almost  roofctl  by  the 
jutting  eaves.  Above  such  villages  on  the  mountain  sides  are 
the  gnarled  and  grotesque  umbrella  pines,  with  their  yellow 
trunks  and  branches  and  spreading  boughs.  Dense  thickets  of 
featiiery  bamboo  and  of  camellias  and  other  waxy  evergreen 
shrubs  enclose  the  lanes  and  roads.  These  adjuncts  add  to  the 
romantic  picturcsqueness  of  many  mountain  villages. 


!  '  •  h 


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90 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\>  t^ 


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;;r 


In  some  mountain  localities  beautiful  little  jinrickisha  roads,  as 
smooth  and  well  paved  as  one  of  our  boulevards,  climb  up  the 
valleys  by  a  grade  so  easy  and  well  engineered  that  they  could  be 
used   for  a  railway  track  but   for  the  shortness  of  the  curves. 
These  pretty  roads  mount  on  one  side  of   the  narrow  valleys, 
climbing  higher  and  higher,  the  torrent  getting  farther  and  far- 
ther  below,  till  one   looks  down    i,ooo  feet   upon  the  foaming 
water,  while  beautiful  slopes  lift   high  above,  and  perhaps  are 
wrapped  iti  a  soft  veil  of  cloud.     Perched  high  up  the  gorge,  the 
traveller  will,  after  the  climb  of  a  few  miles,  find  himself  in  a 
pretty  hamlet,  and  enjoy  his  evening  or  his  mid-day  lunch  in  a 
hotel  deliciously  clean,  and  as  cool  as  could  be  wished.     Nearly 
all  travellers  content  themselves  by  a  voyage  by  steamer  from 
Yokohama  to  Kobe,  at  the  beginning  of  the  inland  sea.     One 
should  go  from  one  to  the  other  of  these  points  cither  by  the 
great  Tokaido  road  through  fine  scenery  and  a  dense  population, 
or  by  the  Nakasendo  through  the  heart  of  the  country  and  fine 
mountain  scenery.     Indeed,  one  should  take  both  of  tiiese  trips. 
But,  as  I  said,  most  travellers  content  themselves  with  the  sea 
voyage  between  these  points.     They  see  in  the  locality  of  Miogo, 
Ozaka,  and  Kioto,  several  ranges  of  mountains,  composed  of  the 
detritus  of  granite  rocks.     These  ranges  have  a  somewhat  sterile 
appearance,  with  deep  gorges  of  yellow  or  gray  sand  ;  dunes  of 
sand   left  everywhere,  and   not   more  than  half  relieved   by  the 
forests  climbing  the  mountain  sides.    I  am  unable  to  comprehend 
the  causes  which  brought  about  the  disintegration  of  this  hard 
stone.     There  must  have   been,  at   some  period   of   the  past,  a 
peculiar  chemical  composition  of  the  atmosphere  to  have  enabled 
it  to  melt  down  the  mountains  and  turn  them  into  granitic  sand. 
Water  alone  will  destroy  mountains  of  sandstone,  but  something 
else  was  needed  to  change  these  granite  hills.     People  who  have 
travelled    here   as   the  majority  do,    will   think   my  pictures   of 
Japanese  scenery  overdrawn  ;  but  these  localities  are  excejjtions 
rather  than  the  rule. 

I  spoke  of  the  Japanese  saying:  "See  Nikko  before  you  say 
kekko  "  (splendid).  This  referred  more  to  the  temples  in  that 
sacred  locality  than  to  the  scenery.  The  genuine  tourist,  how- 
ever,  who  is  not  afraid  of  a  good  and  heavy  tramp,  or  who  can 
mount  a  Japanese  pony,  will  find  the  temples  afford  less  than  half 
the  delights  to  be  found  about  the  sacred  town.  In  every  direc- 
tion are  fine  excursions,  some  of  them  of  almost  unequalled 
charms.  One  I  shall  always  delight  to  recall — that  of  some 
20  miles,  to  Chusenji  Lake  and  Umato  sulphur  springs.  Fear- 
ful that  we  would  be  unequal  to  the  walk,  v,'e  had  one  pony 
between  us.  And  what  a  pony!  The  horse  here  is  said  to  be 
indigenous  to  the  soil.  He  is  a  sort  of  doubly  enlarged  Shetland 
pony,  shaggy  mane,  and  foretop  as  heavy  as  a  Jap's  head  of  hair. 
He  carries  his  head  very  low,  and  seems  as  ugly  and  determined 


JAPANESE  HORSES. 


9« 


in  his  disposition  as  his  master  is  cheerful  and  easy-going.  The 
horses  are  entire,  and  are  used  for  riding  and  for  the  army,  while 
the  mares  are  employed  in  raising  colts  and  carrying  packs.  The 
saddle-horses  go  when  they  please  and  stop  when  they  will. 
They  are  the  most  gallant  brutes  on  earth,  and  every  lady-horse 
we  met  called  forth  all  the  chivalry  of  my  steed,  and  once  or 
twice  got  me  into  a  scrape  which  gave  me  trouble  to  get  out  of. 
One  advantage,  however,  accrued  to  me — the  boys  dared  not 
ride  ;  and,  while  we  theoretically  rode  in  turn,  I  was  generally  in 
the  saddle.  Our  road  was  up  a  river  of  a  crystalline  clearness  I 
had  never  conceived  of.  The  perfectly  white  clear  water  rushed 
over  rocks  in  every  imaginable  way,  now  cataract,  then  rapid, 
crossed  every  half  mile  by  odd  bridges,  some  of  them  springing 
from  rock  to  rock,  through  which  went  tumbling  the  rushing  tor- 
rents in  wildest  fury.  The  road-way  of  thtse  bridges  is  never 
over  four  feet  wide,  and  without  any  guard  on  the  sides,  the 
floors  being  fagots  lashed  down  with  grass  ropes.  My  steed,  who 
never  failed  to  cry  halt  when  he  met  a  pack-animal,  to  find 
whether  lie  wore  meeting  one  of  his  sweethearts  or  not,  displayed 
the  most  discreet  care  when  crossing  these  frail  structures,  never 
once  lifting  his  nose  a  foot  above  the  floor.  By  the  way,  horses 
for  the  saddle  are  shod  with  iron  :  all  others,  as  well  as  the  pack- 
cows  and  bulls  have  their  feet  protected  by  shoes  of  straw,  and 
very  excellent  siioes  they  are.  The  straw  sandal  for  a  man  costs 
about  a  cent  and  a  half  of  our  money.  I  doubt  if  a  full  set  of 
horse-shoes  cost  any  more.  In  some  parts  of  the  roads  we  have 
travelled  we  could  almost  say  the  roads  were  paved  with  worn- 
out  horse-  and  men-sandals.  Whenever  the  wearer  finds  his  foot 
protection  too  much  worn  he  discards  it  and  dons  another,  of 
which  he  usually  has  an  extra  pair.  Every  tea-house  along  the 
roads,  and  there  are  many,  have  good  supplies  of  these  cheap 
foot  protectors. 

liut  I  was  speaking  of  the  excursion  from  Nikko  to  Umato. 
The  road  is  along  the  river,  between  beautifullyjorested  moun- 
tains, of  most  picturosciue  forms,  one  of  them  having  an  elevation 
of  over  8,000  feet.  The  vegetation  is  of  great  luxuriance,  lofty 
pines  and  cedars,  beech  of  large  size,  birch,  elm,  and  many  other 
trees,  such  as  are  the  denizens  of  temperate  climates,  standing 
side  by  side  with  those  one  is  accustomed  to  suppose  the  products 
of  the  tropics  alone.  It  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  this  land, 
that  not  only  does  nearly  every  kind  of  tropical  vegetation  grow 
in  groat  luxuriance,  but  mixed  up  with  these  are  the  growths  of 
the  temperate  zones,  in  equal  sturdinoss.  Along  our  road  wore 
thickets  of  rhododendrons  and  tree-hydrangeas,  the  latter  10  to 
20  foot  high ;  thickets  of  bamboo  and  of  birch  trees,  glossy- 
leaved  evergreen  oaks,  interlacing  their  boughs  with  those  of 
beech  and  gnarled  deciduous  oaks  ;  monkey-slipper  trees,  with 
crooked    branches,   looking   as  hard  and  smooth  as  if  made  of 


I-. 


ml 


\v 


93 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


i»    ! 


bronze,  and  bronze  in  color,  twisting  their  tortuous  limbs  among 
those  of  the  maple  and  elm. 

In  this  one  day's  walk  we  saw  four  beautiful  cascades,  tumbling 
down  into  the  wildest  gorges  from  heights  varying  from  50  to 
230  feet,  and  two  singular  falls— I  scarcely  know  whether  to  call 
them  cascades  or  not — one  having  a  fall  of  over  200  feet  down  a 
smooth  incline  of  40  degrees,  the  water  rushing  down  with  a 
width  of  about  25  feet  in  a  mass  of  foam,  over  a  bed  of  tufa  as 
black  as  polished  ebony.  The  other,  on  the  same  stream,  tumbles 
in  a  succession  of  such  falls  from  a  much  greater  height.  One  of 
the  cascades  leaps  from  a  jutting  ledge  so  far  over  the  gulf  below 
that  the  pious  natives  have  placed  a  life-sized  statue  of  one  of  the 
gods  high  up  under  the  sheet,  and  a  picturesque  temple  on  a  lofty 
ledge,  attainable  only  by  the  climbing  path  under  the  falling 
sheet  of  water.  Two  of  the  cascades  and  two  of  the  cataracts  are 
very  unique  and  very  beautiful,  and  many  of  the  whirls  and  rush- 
ing rapids  along  the  river  for  miles  would  in  England  be  of  sufifi- 
cient  beauty  to  attract  tourists  from  a  distance.  At  an  elevation 
of  some  4,300  feet  we  came  to  Lake  Chusenji,  a  sheet  of  crystal, 
seven  miles  long  by  a  mile  in  width,  400  feet  deep,  nestled  down 
among  forest-clad  heights  from  1,000  to  4,000  feet  above  the 
surface. 

A  lunch  of  delicious  salmon  trout  on  a  piazza  of  polished  floors 
jutting  over  the  water  prepared  us  for  a  further  walk  of  eight 
miles,  now  along  the  tumbling  stream,  then  in  thickets  of  flower- 
ing shrubs,  over  a  beautiful  prairie  of  about  8,000  acres,  along  the 
shores  of  two  other  lakes  of  say  30  to  300  acres  extent,  at  a  height 
of  5,500  feet,  which  brought  us  to  the  hot  sulphur  baths  of  Umato. 
Thousands  of  pilgrims  visit  Nikko  each  year,  and  after  paying  their 
devotions  in  the  temples,  climb  to  this  spot  to  wash  out  any  fur- 
ther impurities  of  the  body  and  soul.  Men  and  women  bathe 
promiscuously,  without  shame,  and  without  any  sense  of  im- 
modesty. If  I  be  correctly  informed,  the  Japanese  have  no  con- 
ception of  any  past  sins.  No  forbidden  fruit  ever  tempted  their 
forefathers  to  entail  sin  and  death  upon  them.  In  praying  they 
never  ask  to  have  a  sin  forgiven.  They  pray  for  a  pure  heart  and 
a  spotless  soul,  for  blessings  of  a  temporal  character  to  be  show- 
ered upon  them  and  theirs.  A  cle.m  body,  in  their  estimation, 
conduces  to  a  clean  character.  They  take  their  hot  baths  nigiitly, 
and,  when  able  to  do  so,  crowd  the  natural  thermal  baths  in  which 
the  country  greatly  abounds.  They  are  pronounced  immoral 
because  they  bathe  men  and  women  together.  But  tlie\-  certainly 
have  no  feeling  that  there  is  any  immorality  in  it.  We  had  a 
striking  illustration  of  this  at  the  thermal  bath  of  Arima,  a  few 
miles  back  of  Kobe.  We  three  were  in  the  liigh-priced  tank — two 
cents  each.  Beyond  a  screen  was  a  cent  tank,  about  eight  feet 
square.  Around  it  were  13  men  and  women,  hanging  by  their 
hands  to  the  edges  like  frogs  to  a  floating  log.     In  the  half-cent 


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JAPANESE  SCENERY. 


93 


tank,  much  larger,  were  dozens  of  laborers  and  coolies.  Presently 
a  man  and  woman  passed  us,  and  finding  the  next  tank  rather 
full,  slid  into  ours.  They  were  man  and  wife,  and  in  nature's  own 
dishabille.  They  thought  us  Japs,  and  were  disposed  to  be  talka- 
tive, but  as  soon  as  they  found  we  were  foreigners  the  woman 
became  confused,  and  blushed.  She  knew  we,  being  of  a  differ- 
ent civilization,  might  regard  her  as  immodest.  But  going  into 
the  bath  with  her  husband  showed  she  did  not  regard  it  as  im- 
proper to  enter  it  with  strangers  and  other  men.  It  is  their 
custom,  and  is  not  much  stranger  than  that  I  once  saw  in  Asia 
Minor,  where  wc  met  a  dozen  or  more  women  fording  a  stream 
nearly  waist-deep.  They  did  not  wet  their  garments,  but  would 
have  considered  themselves  disgraced  had  we  .seen  their  faces. 
After  all,  the  more  I  see  and  learn  the  more  fully  I  concede  the 
truth  of  England's  motto — "  Honi  soil  qui  inal y  pcnsc." 

The  next  best  excursion  we  took  for  scenery  was  in  passing 
over  Hakone  pass  on  the  overland  trip  from  Yokohama  to  Kioto. 
In  tlie  Nikko  neighborhood  our  pleasure  was  principally  in  look- 
ing upward.  Here  wc  looked  downward.  Fuji  is  to  all  central 
Japan  the  one  great  landmark,  and  is,  in  many  of  the  finest  views, 
the  great  attraction.  From  every  direction  he  is  seen  a  perfect 
cone,  with  apparently  easy  slopes.  When  we  passed  nearest  him, 
about  tlie  5th  of  October,  snow  had  already  fallen  about  his  sum- 
mit, and  ran  down  more  or  less  in  lines  some  2,000  or  3,000  feet.  It 
looked  as  if  he  had  on  a  lace  mantle,  or,  rather,  collar,  which 
showed  his  dark  neck  through  its  meshes  and  points. 

We  expected  to  sail  by  the  Japanese  mail-boat  for  Shanghai  on 
the  20th  from  Kobe,  but  found  her  so  crowded  that  we  could  get 
no  rooms.  We  then  found  that  the  Port  Augusta  was  to  sail 
to-day.  We  took  tickets  on  her,  and  are  the  only  passengers. 
She  was  at  Vancouver  when  wc  arrived  there,  the  1st  of  August, 
in  the  employ,  for  one  trip,  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Company. 
She  had  a  perfectly  smooth  sea  over,  while,  a  month  later,  ours 
was  an  unusually  rough  passage.  She  now  goes  to  China  to  get 
a  cargo  for  New  York.  We  were  somewhat  disappointed  in  the 
great  inland  sea.  There  are  a  vast  number  of  islands,  some 
mere  grotesque  rocks,  others  forest-clad  and  green,  many  of 
them  quite  lofty,  and  not  a  few  lifting  from  the  water  in  per- 
fect cones.  They  were  so  close  together  that  oftentimes  we 
seemed  to  he  thoroughly  land-locked.  But  there  was  not  the 
terrace-farming  we  had  been  led  by  enthusiastic  book-makers 
to  expect.  Comparatively  few  of  the  islands  were  terraced, 
and  none  to  any  considerable  height.  Its  extravagant  praise 
comes  from  those  who  have  not  seen  the  interior  of  the  coun- 
try, with  which  its  beauty  cannot  compare.  The  sea  was  filled 
by  day  with  little  fishing  sampans,  so  plentiful  that  one  is  wil- 
ling to  believe  that  there  are,  as  claimed,  several  millions  of 
people,  more  or  less,  directly  engaged  in,  or  connected  with,  fish- 


I     I 


'  tii 


■ .  w\ 


\\ 


i. 


94 


J  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


I'l 


ing.  In  more  than  half  of  the  boats  seen  on  this  and  other  trips 
there  would  be  a  small  boy,  from  ten  to  fifteen  years  old,  and  a 
man.  These  little  fellows  work  an  oar  as  steadily  as  do  the  men, 
and  seem  to  be  expert  boatmen  and  fishermen  almost  from  their 
cradle.  Sometimes  a  little  girl  was  in  the  place  of  the  boy,  the 
gods  not  having  blessed  her  parents  with  one  of  the  stronger  sex. 
Women  are  not  exempt  from  work  in  Japan,  and  although  treated 
with  kindness  and  tender  affection,  they  do  their  share  of  the 
hard  work  of  the  land.  The  western  inlet  to  the  inland  sea  at 
Shimonosaki  is  about  250  miles  from  Kobe,  and  is  deserving  all 
the  praise  so  lavishly  heaped  upon  the  whole  sea.  The  passage 
here  is  narrow.  The  hills  and  mountains  ;irc  lofty,  all  very  green, 
and  frequently  terraced  high  up  the  sides.  As  we  rushed  through 
with  a  tide  flowing  six  knots  an  hour  we  had  a  feeling  of  great 
regret  that  we  were  so  soon  past  the  beautiful  spot.  l"\)r  the 
balance  of  the  day  we  were  among  many  fine  islands  in  the 
Corean  Strait.  While  somewhat  disappointed,  we  j-et  feel  that 
we  have  nowhere  else  had  an)'  water  trip  near  so  fine  as  this  of 
nearly  400  miles,  and  regret  we  could  not  have  laid  off  so  as  to 
have  it  all  by  daylight. 

When,  however,  we  waked  up  on  the  :22d  and  looketl  out  upon 
the  little  bay  of  Nagasaki  all  the  balance  was  forgotten.  This  is 
beyond  any  thing  we  can  say  of  the  beautiful.  Imagine  a  bay 
whose  mouth  is  less  than  a  third  of  a  mile  wide,  running  with  a 
width  of  less  than  one.  some  seven  or  eight  miles  through  nunm- 
tains  from  500  to  1,400  feet  high.  The  mountains  come  ^\o\\■\\  to 
the  water  in  rapid  slopes,  with  narrow  valleys  and  deep  gorges 
intervening.  On  one  side  the  city  lies  upon  a  narrow  shore,  run- 
ning back  into  the  valleys  and  deep  gorges.  The  hill-sitlcs  are 
more  or  less  clothed  in  trees,  half-hidden  among  which  are  many 
handsome  bungalows  and  terraced  and  hedged  gardens.  High 
above  the  town,  which  has  a  population  of  over  100,000,  the  entire 
hills  are  terraced  and  green  with  turnips  and  other  root  crops,  or 
white  with  buckwheat.  In  the  harbor  lay  at  anchor  seven  men- 
of-war  and  a  dozen  steamships,  and  a  vast  number  of  sailing  and 
rowing  sampans.  The  sampan  is  not  rowed  but  sculled  by  one 
or  more  oars  set  in  the  side,  and  worked  like  the  fin  of  a  fish. 
We  took  lunch  aboard  the  flag-ship  Brooklyn,  Rcar-Admiral 
Chandler,  and  had  a  pleasant  time  in  her  ward-room.  The  Brook- 
lyn is  an  old  wooden  ship  of  pretty  model,  but  would  have  a  sorry 
time  in  an  engagement  with  any  of  the  first-class  vessels  which 
lie  near  her.  There  were  the  iron-clad  Turcnnc,  of  the  French, 
the  iron-clad  Constance,  of  England,  and  an  iron-clad  Russian. 
But  we  felt  with  pride  that  \.\\q  personnel  o{  our  officers  surpassed 
that  of  any  of  those  we  saw  while  in  the  city.  Most  Americans 
seem  to  feel  a  sort  of  shame  when  they  see  our  poor  show  of  a 
navy  in  these  waters  side  by  side  with  the  powerful  steamers  of 
England,  France,  Russia,  Japan,  and  other  nations.     I  must  say 


MISSIONARIES  IN  JAPAN. 


95 


that  I  do  not  have  any  such  feeling,  any  more  than  I  feel  morti- 
fied when  I  look  at  a  Grecian  or  Roman  ruin,  and  reflect  that  we 
have  none,  or  when  1  admire  a  royal  palace  and  know  it  has  no 
counterpart  in  my  own  land.  America's  strength  is  in  the  iron- 
hearted  men  who  tread  her  ships,  and  not  in  the  iron-clad  ships 
which  carry  privileged  classes.  I  believe  in  being  prepared  in 
times  of  peace  for  war,  but  not  in  having  too  many  ships  to  strut 
around  the  world  for  show  and  glitter.  \Vc  had  as  much  pride 
when  treading  the  deck  of  the  Brooklyn  and  seeing  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  floating  over  a  sturdy  body  of  American  tars,  as  we  would 
have  had  if  she  had  been  a  solid  ram,  and  much  more  than  if  she 
had  been  a  splendid  ship  like  the  Russian  near  by,  and  her  sailors 
reeling  in  stupid  drunkenness,  as  so  many  of  the  Muscovite  crew 
were  Sunday  evening.  Nagasaki  is  said  to  be  the  worst  city  in 
Japan.  The  Christian  nations  have  set  it  a  bad  examj^lc,  and  for 
the  first  time  since  our  arrival  we  saw  absolutely  intoxicated 
Japanese  swearing  like  mad  in  rugged  English.  They  have  no 
native  oaths.  Their  worst  epithet  for  ;i  man  is:  "You  fool," 
"You  beast."  l?ut  we  heard  one  fellow  swearing  like  a  London 
hackman  in  pretty  good  Saxon.  I  hope  the  good  missionaries 
will  keep  the  "  cuss  words "  out  of  the  island.  A  round  oath 
when  a  man  is  reallj'  mad  I  can  stand,  but  the  oaths  uttered  by 
so  many  of  our  people  merely  as  expletives  are  very  disgusting. 

The  missionaries  of  Japan  ought  to  do  their  level  best  to  show 
their  thankfulness  to  the  Lord,  for  He  has  certainly  cast  their 
lines  in  pleasant  jilaces.  In  every  city  where  there  are  conces- 
sions these  are  the  best  part  of  the  town,  and  the  houses  and 
grounds  of  the  missionaries  are  among  the  most  charming.  The 
prettiest  bungalows  are  those  of  the  missionaries.  The  hedges 
and  flowers  of  the  missionaries  are  the  greenest  and  the  brightest, 
and  the  tidiest  children  and  the  best-drilled  servants  are  theirs. 
In  the  summer  they  all  go  to  the  mountains,  where,  in  tent  life, 
they  spend  a  beautiful  two  months.  Altogether,  commend  me 
to  the  life  of  a  missionary  in  Japan.  I  have  no  doubt  they  do 
their  duty.  I  have  not  too  much  faith  in  the  direct  conversions 
they  make,  but,  indirectly,  they  do  great  good.  They  inaugurate 
education,  especially  among  the  women.  Christianity  will  follow 
in  the  wake.  It  will  be  an  intelligent  Christianity,  even  if  men 
turn  Christians  for  the  sake  of  trade.  I  do  not  know  that  this  is 
worse  than  people  among  us  who  attach  themselves  to  a  particu- 
lar church  for  the  sake  of  social  position.  When  men  become 
Christians  in  the  broad  sense  for  policy,  they  will  have  a  better 
chance  of  becoming  Christians  in  the  narrow  sense  from  conviction. 

While  in  Nagasaki  we  had  an  opportunity  of  studying  the 
people  very  advantageously.  We  took  on  1,200  to  1,500  tons  of 
coal.  This  was  done  by  men,  women,  and  children  working  with 
little  straw  baskets.  At  7  o'clock  in  the  morning,  after  we  got 
out  of  dock,  in  which  our  ship  was  cleaned,  a  couple  of  dozen 


I  r     'I 


■!  P 


'■im 


% 


.\i ;  "^s 


i  i 

r'iji 

1,    ' 

T    ii 

f 

41! 

J. 

,1  ia . 

«« 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUA. 


m 


\%\ 


lar^'c  coal-boats  and  dozens  of  little  sampans  filled  with  people 
came  around  us.  Soon  the  decks  were  crowded— men  shoutin^f, 
boys  romping,  [;iris  laughing.  Such  a  bedlam  I  never  heard.  On 
the  ship  and  about  it  were  nearly  i.OCX)  people.  Soon  the 
hatches  were  opened,  and  14  small  platform  scales  were  put  up. 
To  each  scale  was  a  tub,  to  hold  112  pounds.  The  coal  is  sold 
by  the  long  ton.  Ladders  were  erected  from  the  sampan  coal- 
boats  below  to  the  deck  of  the  ship.  Women,  girls,  and  boys 
tlien  formed  a  line  from  the  boats  below,  up  these  ladders,  and 
along  the  decks  to  the  hatchways.  These  lines  held  from  30  to 
35  people,  in  some  cases  considerably  more,  so  as  to  reach  a  boat 
which  was  outside  of  those  next  the  ship.  Then  the  work  com- 
menced, the  baskets,  holding  from  12  to  15  pounds  each,  being 
started  from  the  boat  and  run  from  hand  to  hand  to  the  tub  at 
the  hatch.  As  soon  as  this  was  filletl  a  man  would  empty  it  over 
into  the  holil.  The  baskets  came  up  so  fast  and  in  such  regular 
order  that  tiicy  seemed  to  be  imbued  witii  life,  and  simply  sliding 
along  the  uplifted  hands.  As  the  baskets  would  nu)unt  they  took 
a  somewhat  rotary  motion.  So  rapidly  did  they  move  that  a  tub 
would  be  filled  in  very  few  minutes.  Among  the  workers  were 
women  and  girls  from  about  13  years  u[).  To  each  gang  there 
were  three  or  four  men,  one  to  empty  the  tub,  one  to  empty  the 
basket,  ami  one  at  a  heavy  point  near.  So  rapid  were  the  motions 
that  they  seemed  often  the  work  of  machinery.  I'rom  morning  till 
night  these  people  worked,  stopping  only  at  noon  for  an  hour  for 
their  two  ounces  of  rice  and  their  lacquer  boxes  of  fish  and  vege- 
tables. Not  an  angry  word  was  ever  heard.  All  were  jolly, 
laughing,  and  talking.  Now  and  then  some  woman  would  say 
something  to  her  neighbor  at  the  expense  of  us  three  who  were 
watching  from  the  quarter-deck— ♦^hen  one  by  one  looked  and 
laughed.  A  brighter,  happier  set  of  )»cople  I  have  never  seen  at 
a  pic-nic — indeed,  none  as  bright,  for  it  a  pic-nic  there  is  always  a 
sort  of  listless  appearance  of  h,;"';ig  nothing  to  do.  Here  all 
were  busy,  and  willingly  busy;  ;ul  were  working,  and  working 
with  a  heart.  Other  ships  were  coaling  near  b)-.  In  other  words, 
these  people  were  not  at  a  pic-nic,  but  this  thing  goes  on  more  or 
less  through  the  whole  j-ear,  the  great  Japanese  coal-fields  being 
close  by.  They  were  all  clean  and  tidy.  Many  of  the  girls  had 
their  hair  done  up  in  elaborate  style.  Over  every  head  ^.-as  a 
blue  kerchief  tied  under  the  chin  to  keep  out  the  dust.  Many  of 
the  gowns  were  patched,  and  some  had  holes  in  them,  but  not  a 
single  one  had  the  slightest  appearance  of  untidiness.  All  were 
clean,  all  looked  cheerful,  all  were  ready  to  laugh,  and  all  seemed 
happy.  Yet  the  men  who  did  the  heavy  work  received  only  15 
and  20  cents  a  day,  the  women  ten  and  twelve,  and  the  children 
five  and  seven  ;  add  to  this  two  ounces  of  rice  for  their  lunch. 

These  people  were   the  wives  and   children   of  fishermen  and 
farmers  in  the  near   neighborhood,  who  do    this   sort    of  work 


CUE/ 

when  the  cri 
are  out  at 
children  wit 
face.     They 
right  have  t 
tian    lands 
many  go  at 
Here   these 
kindly  towa 
As  I  havt. 
I  have  stud 
in  other  Ian 
the  people, 
attempted 
have  studie 
their  roosts 
valley,  mou 
spider  spin 
the  air  geoi 
toiling  for  ; 
with  keen  1 
If  any  sho 
Japan  I  en 
like  mine,  ; 
the  last  tin 
We    sail 
rocky  Taffi 
death.     W 
to  my  wor 
night,  I  cl( 
the   Rising: 
commence 
pleasure  t( 
parting  wi 
afternoon, 
fortunatel 
many  of  11 
ere  night  I 
drive  awa 
fits  and  ; 
were  racii 
Within  a 
clouds,  bi 
ward  red 
bloodsho 
land  just 
and  lowe 
And  lo ! 


.{ 


CHEERFULNESS  OF  JAPANESE  LABORERS.        97 


when  the  crops  are  laid  by  and  when  their  husbands  and  fatiiers 
are  out  at  sea.  We  noticed  many  of  the  youny  women  and 
cliildren  with  deUcatc,  well-cut  features  and  sweet  expressions  of 
face.  They  evidently  do  not  regard  work  as  a  hardship.  What 
right  have  they  thus  to  toil  and  be  happy  ?  In  civilized  Chris- 
tian lands  men  are  being  taught  that  work  is  a  penalty,  and 
many  go  at  it  as  if  they  had  a  grudge  against  their  employers. 
Mere  these  people  work  for  a  pittance,  and  then  seem  to  feel 
kindly  toward  the  man  who  pays  it. 

As  I  have  said  in  my  other  letters,  they  arc  a  strange  people. 
I  have  studied  them  as  best  I  could.  Heretofore,  in  travelling 
in  other  lands,  I  have  been  able  to  hold  some  intercourse  with 
tile  people,  whereliy  we  could  interchange  ideas.  Hut  I  have  not 
attempted  lo  talk  with  these,  even  througli  an  interpreter.  I 
have  studied  them  as  I  study  the  crows  flying  at  eventide  to 
their  roosts;  as  I  study  the  ants  climbing  over  the  tiny  hill  and 
valley,  mountain  and  gorge,  in  their  ceaseless  toils  ;  as  I  study  the 
spider  spinning  gossamer  threads  and  with  them  m.iking  upon 
the  air  geometrical  figures  ;  as  I  study  the  bees  in  musical  hum 
toiling  for  sweets.  I  have  studied  these  people  and  leave  them 
with  keen  regret  that  I  had  not  more  time  to  give  to  the  study. 
If  any  should  be  induced  by  what  I  write  to  make  a  tour  of 
Japan  I  envy  them,  for  their  pleasure  is  in  the  future,  and  not, 
like  mine,  all  in  the  past.  When  we  weighed  anchor,  I  had  for 
the  last  time  trod  upon  the  mikado's  soil. 

We  sailed  out  of  Nagasaki's  beautiful  harbor,  close  under 
rocky  Paffenburg,  where  so  many  Christians  were  hurled  to  their 
death.  We  watched  the  land  as  it  receded,  and  then  1  sat  down 
to  my  work  and  have  worked  hard  all  day.  And  now,  late  at 
night,  I  close  this  letter  and  thus  end  my  visit  to  the  Land  of 
the  Rising  Sun.  Three  montiis  ago  to-day  we  left  Chicago  to 
commence  our  race  with  old  Sol.  It  was  with  expectations  of 
pleasure  to  be  enjoyed,  but  yet  with  no  small  misgivings  at  thus 
parting  with  those  we  loved.  Six  weeks  ago  to-day,  late  in  the 
afternoon,  the  typhoon  had  gone  to  the  eastward,  its  angry  centre, 
fortunately  for  us,  having  passed  some  miles  to  the  south,  and 
many  of  us  were  on  deck  looking  to  the  west,  hoping  to  be  able 
ere  nightfall  to  cry  "  Land  ho  I  "  The  sun  was  struggling  to 
drive  away  the  clouds  lying  between  him  and  the  earth,  and  by 
fits  and  starts  shot  down  his  pale-gray  rays.  The  low  clouds 
were  racing  wildly  along,  chasing  each  other  like  mad  coursers. 
Within  a  few  degrees  of  the  western  horizon  there  were  no 
clouds,  but  the  air  was  so  full  of  spray  that  the  sun  sank  down- 
ward red  as  a  ball  of  blood.  We  kept  our  eyes  fixed  upon  his 
bloodshot  face,  for  the  captain  told  us  we  would  probably  see 
land  just  as  he  would  dip  below  the  horizon.  He  dipped  lower 
and  lower,  when  our  skipper  quietly  said  :  "  See,  there  's  land  !  " 
And  lo !  across  the  sun's  lower  disk  there  was  drawn  a  zigzag 


,    M    • 


\    i'-'h^^ 


u 


98 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


i '. 


line  of  a  broken  mountain  range,  and  close  to  the  left  was  lifted 
the  clear-cut  cone  of  mighty  Fuji,  72  miles  away.  It  was  thus 
we  first  saw  Japan— to  us  the  land  of  the  setting  sun.  For  six 
weeks  we  have  journeyed  in  and  about  that  land,  among  its 
lis,ht-liearted,  its  strange  and  incongruous  people;  its  cheerful 
and  happy,  its  bright  and  generous,  loving  and  modest  people  ; 
its  down-trodden  and  toiling,  its  suspicious  and  immoral,  re- 
vengeful and  innocent  people  ;  for  tiiey  seem  to  possess  all  of 
these  contradictory  characteristics.  We  have  wandered  among 
and  have  studied  them  as  best  we  could.  In  spite  of  their  glar- 
ing faults  we  like  them,  almost  love  them.  i\nd  this  morning,  as 
the  sun  was  gilding  the  heights  about  Nagasaki  harbor,  we  came 
out  from  among  them  and  cried  out  as  we  passed  Taffenburg's 
bloody  locks,  "  Farewell,  good  Japanese,  good-bye  !  "  For  si.K 
weeks  we  have  wandered  among  the  mountains  and  valleys  of  the 
land  ;  its  dark  gorges  and  terraced  slopes,  its  forest-clad  heights 
and  grain-covered  plains.  We  have  wondered  and  admired.  We 
have  been  happy,  where  birds  are  without  note  and  insects  make 
nights  musical  ;  where  wild  flowers  tieck  moun(;ain  and  valley, 
forest  and  prairie,  flowers  of  every  form  and  of  every  hue,  but 
none  of  them  endowed  with  fragrance,  or  ever  inviting  the  bee 
to  sip  from  their  cups;  a  land  where  frowning  crags  and  dark 
gorges  were  made  to  strike  terror  to.  and  wring  awe  from,  the 
bravest  heart,  yet  clothed  in  trees  and  shrubs  and  mantled  in 
garlands,  bid  the  youthful  swain  and  gentle  maid  to  wander  in 
dreams  and  to  sigh  for  rosy  love.  We  have  been  happy,  yet  the 
happiness  of  one  of  us  was  all  the  time  tinged  with  sadness. 

Thirty-six  years  ago  he  had  wandered  afoot  and  alone  over 
Alpine  lieights  and  through  Alpine  valleys.  Before  him  then  there 
k'.as  life  and  its  gilded  hopes.  He  looked  upward  and  was  filled 
with  gladness,  for  he  could  sing — 

"  The  br.ivest  .ind  hrifjlilest  ih.at  ever  w.-is  sunr, 
Sh.ill  lie,  anil  must  lie,  tlie  lnt  (if  the  ymuij^.  ' 

He  was  alone,  and  yet  never  alone.  By  his  side  was  one  of 
his  fancy's  creation — gentle,  loving,  dark-eyed,  and  caressing, 
who  would  yet  look  with  him  upon  all  he  now  so  much  enjoyed. 
His  every  look  ,vas  then  upward.  His  sun  was  always  climbing 
and  gilding  the  lofty  pinnacles.  There,  clothed  in  garments  woven 
of  sunbeams,  was  the  being  who  was  to  make  his  years  years  of 
brightness.  He  was  alone  and  yet  never  alone,  and  never  sad, 
for  there  was  always  the  reflection  in  his  heart  of  a  glorious 
to-morrow.  But  here  in  Japan,  in  the  midst  of  the  beautiful, 
there  came  through  the  pine  needles  a  gentle  dirge  and  a  sweet, 
sad  song  of  the  past.  There  was,  and  could  be,  no  loving  eye  to 
look  upon  and  revel  in  the  dreamland  around.  There  was  not, 
and  never  could  be  again,  a  loving  heart,  real  or  in  fancy,  to  beat 
in  tune  to  his  own  pulsations.     There  was  not,  and  never  could 


AX  OLD  DKEAAf. 


99 


be  again,  a  gentle  voice  in  loving  tones  to  whisper  :  "  Hope  and 
live,  live  and  hope,  for  there  will  yet  be  in  this  world  a  bright  and 
rosy  to-morrow." 

This  afternoon  we  thrc.  the  only  passen,t^r!-s  of  our  good  ship, 
stood  upon  the  deck,  and  as  the  sun  hurried  down  to  the  west, 
looked  earnestly  to  the  east  for  one  more,  one  last  sight  of  the 
land  we  left.  The  captain  told  us  we  would  see  no  more  land 
until  the  Chinese  islands  should  lift  up  from  the  sea.  But  we 
looked,  and  far  off  there  rose  a  point — a  mere  point.  It  was  a 
mountain  cone  on  the  westernmost  of  the  mikado's  islands.  We 
looked,  and  as  the  last  ray  of  the  setting  sun  gilded  its  far-off 
height  one  of  us  sighed  :  "  Farewell,  Niphon,  land  of  the  rising 
sun  !     Farewell,  Japan,  land  of  dreams  I     Good-bye  !" 


'.  . ' 


■V.  ) 


hILi 


mi 

i"    ■W'l.ll'li 


I 

i  !  'I 

11 


I.  I 
J 


'fit 


f 


M 


)      ; 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

YANC-TSE-KIAiVC-CIIINKSE  FARMI.NC-l'  ISll  AM)  MODKS  OF  fATril- 

1XC,_A1M'EARAN'CE  OF  THE  COUNTRY— MISSIONARIES, 

t'ATHOI.K'  AND  I'ROTESTAXr. 

Steamer  ^'  Kiang-Foo,"  on  the  Vang-Tse-Kiang,  China^ 

Xo-cember  cS,  1SS7, 

A  LONG  while  ago,  so  long  that  I  cannot  fix  the  date  as  having 
been  within  any  given  five  or  six  j-ears,  when  I  was  a  big  boy,  a 
flood  in  the  lower  Mississippi  dug  a  crevasse  in  front  of  the  town 
of  Lake  Providence,  La.,  and  carried  away  some  eighty  or  more 
acres  of  its  land.  The  local  newspapers  alkidcd  to  the  fact  in  tliis 
terse  plirase:  "Where  our  ofifice  stood  )-esteriiay  now  rolls  the 
niightv  Mississippi ;  out  of  respect  for  the  father  of  waters  we 
moved  out  aiul  he  moved  in."  Whenever  in  my  journeyings  this 
great  river  has  come  into  view  I  Jiave  recalled  this  epigram,  and 
involuntarily  have  taken  off  my  hat  with  a  feeling  of  awe,  and  then 
would  swell  with  American  pride  that  ours  was  not  only  the  long- 
est, but  thi,  greatest  and  grandest  of  fresh-water  streams.  Hut  now, 
after  having  spent  over  seven  days  on  the  Yang-tse-Kiang  (Celes- 
tial for  "  Broad  River");  after  steaming  so  many  hundred  miles 
over  its  mighty  floods,  floods  which  move  with  a  current  as  swift  as 
that  of  our  own  great  river,  yet  so  broad  and  of  such  depth  that 
oftentimes  the  movement  is  scarcely  more  apparent  than  are  those 
of  the  tides  in  an  open  sea  ;  after  looking  over  the  thousands  (jf 
square  miles  made  by  its  droppings  throughout  countless  ages  ; 
after  sailing  over  a  jjreat  yellow  sea,  dyed  b)-  its  red  waters  ;  after 
looking  down  day  after  day  upon  its  placid  bosom — placid  in  its 
broad  reaches,  yet,  when  occasionally  contracted  to  a  mile  in 
width,  rushing  in  angry,  whirling  swirls  of  waters  red  and  thick 
with  the  washings  of  450,000,000  acres  of  territoiy,  washings 
not  of  coarse  and  sterile  sands,  but  of  soil  of  almost  impalpable 
fineness;  red  and  thick,  yet  teeming  with  innumerable  fishes  in 
great  variety,  furnishing  food  to  millions  of  people  ; — after  seeing 
and  learning  these  things  I  am  forced  to  lower  .ny  national  pride 
and  acknowledge  that  while  we  have  the  longest,  we  have  not  the 
grandest,  of  rivers.  Hereafter  I  will  touch  my  hat  to  the  "  father 
of  waters,"  but  I  uncover  to  this,  and  hail  it  "  mother  of  waters." 

The  Mississippi  is  a  moving,  active  s)-mhol  of  resistless  force,  of 
uncontrolled  and  uncontrollable  power,  and  of  inexorable  en-.rgy. 

100 


I 


THE  YANG-  TSE-KIANG. 


101 


The  Yang-tse-Kiang  is  the  very  embodiment  of  lofty  dignity,  of 
conscious  might,  and  of  calm,  unbending  majesty.  Catching 
its  first  cup  3,630  odd  miles  from  the  sea,  in  the  great  table- 
land, the  heart  of  Asia,  where  is  claimed  to  be  the  pillar  of 
the  world  and  the  cradle  of  man,  for  20  odd  hundred  miles 
it  washes  the  feet  of  vast  mountain  ranges  with  lofty  peaks 
and  slopes,  said  to  be  of  marvellous  fertility  and  clothed  in 
almost  tropical  exuberance  and  therefore  of  considerable  hu- 
midity, draining  great  valleys,  peopled  with  dense  popula- 
tions, cutting,  in  canyons  from  1,000  to  3,000  feet  deep,  through 
mighty  rock  barriers,  it  rushes  down  gorges  in  tearful  rapids,  but 
so  deep  that  steamers  are  now  being  built  to  navigate  them,  and 
spreads  itself,  about  1,000  miles  from  its  mouth,  into  a  broad, 
dignified  stream  one  and  two  miles  wide,  and  deep  enough  to 
float  the  largest  ocean  steamers. 

At  Hankow,  where  tea-ships  load,  600  odd  miles  from  the 
.sea,  ■'*:  spreads  out  two  to  three  miles  in  width  and  in  the 
summer  monilis  has  a  depth  of  60  feet  in  the  channel.  Here 
congregate  the  huge  otctin  steamers  during  the  tea  season,  and, 
loaded  with  the  fragrant  leaf,  .-.ceam  for  the  sea,  with  nearly  the 
speed  which  they  maintain  on  the  ocean,  to  the  great  western 
cities.  A  hundred  and  thirty  miles  from  the  river's  mouth  it 
becomes  still  broader,  and  maintains  to  the  sea  a  width  ranging 
from  five  to  eight  miles,  and  when  we  went  up  it  was  as  smooth 
and  glassy  as  a  lake.  It  is  now,  on  our  homeward  run,  somewhat 
white-capped.  So  great  is  the  volume  of  the  river  that,  although 
the  tide  rises  at  the  mouth  of  the  Wunsung,  18  miles  up  which 
the  city  of  Shanghai  is  situated,  to  a  height  of  12  feet,  yet  the 
water  is  not  even  brackish,  and  even  the  water-supply  for  the  city 
is  taken  from  the  river  at  high  tide.  Indeed,  far  below  this  to 
the  very  mouth  it  is  fresh  enough  to  drink.  Forty  miles  from 
the  mouth,  near  the  Wunsung,  the  great  island  'Tsung-wung' 
begins,  dividing  the  river  into  two  great  channels  on  to  the  sea. 
A  hundred  years  ago  this  island  had  no  existence.  It  is  the  riv- 
er's offspring  during  a  century's  labor,  and  now  supports  a  popu- 
lation of  1,000,000  people.  When  we  sailed  toward  the  Chinese 
shore  12  days  ago,  when  yet  20  miles  out  at  sea,  the  whole 
surface  was  (juitc  muddy,  and  the  captain  said  we  were  in  the 
Yang-tse. 

Stretching  along  the  eastern  coast  of  China  is  x  low,  and  to  a 
great  extent,  absolutely  flat  plain,  over  1,000  miles  north  and 
south,  running  back,  ihe  books  of  travellers  assert,  over  500 
miles.  From  my  own  observ-ation  on  this  journey,  and  from 
what  I  can  learn  from  some  intelligent  missionaries,  I  am  led 
to  think  this  is  a  mistake.  Broken,  short  ridges  of  low  moun- 
tains are  seen  from  the  steamer  after  ascending  the  river  lOO 
miles.  These  at  much  less  than  200  miles,  are  constantly  in 
view  on  one  or  the  other  shore   line,   now  close   to  the  river 


'4. 


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i-i 

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ir.~m:r 


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r^^m 


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H 


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102 


A  RACE  WITH  THU  SUN. 


1    .i 


1      'i 


and  then  lo  to  15  miles  or  more  away.  After  passing  Chinkiang, 
180  miles  inland,  these  ridges  are  constant  and  seem  piled  up 
one  behind  the  other  as  far  as  the  glass  will  enable  one  to 
see  through  openings  and  gaps.  Indeed,  one  gentleman  as- 
sured me  "that,  so  far  from  plains  being  up  here  a  rule,  they 
are  the  exception.  The  bulk  of  the  country  is  made  up  of  low, 
broken  mountains,  with  valleys  and  plains  interspersed.  The 
mountains  quite  frequently  run  down  to  the  river  in  bold  head- 
lands and  rocky  bluffs  several  hundred  feet  high,  and  many  of 
them  very  picturesque.  Lofty  rocks  now  and  then  lift  from  the 
bed  of  the  ri,  "  i\'.  ring  an  area  of  a  half  acre  or  more.  These 
are  prccipitou.-,  marked  in  the  charts  from  150  to  300  feet 

in  hei'dit.  A  su  ,  ;,rtion  of  each  is  a  steep,  broken  slope, 
growing  small  trees  and  surmounted  with  buslies.  Somewhere 
on  each  is  perched  an  ok!  picturesque  temple.  The  rocky  cliffs 
are  almost  black  with  thousands  of  cornn)rants  perched  on  ever)- 
projection  large  cnougii  to  hold  a  bird.  At  the  points  where 
these  headlands  approached  the  water's  edge  the  river  is  nar- 
rowed to  near  a  mile.  Througli  these  narrows  it  rushes  madly 
and  makes  wiiat  the  boatmen  term  bad  "  chow-chow "  water. 
These  headlands  and  the  mountains  are  sufificiently  uimerous  to 
relieve  the  voyage  of  too  much  sameness  and  monot'<ny.  Indeed, 
in  several  localities,  the  scenery  is  (juite  fine,  but  is  hardly  suffi- 
cient of  itself  to  attract  the  tourist  in  search  of,  and  loving  the 
beautiful.  But  the  noble  river,  its  vast  surface  generally  so  calm, 
its  great  depth  and  mighty  performances,  render  the  trip  uji  it 
very  interesting,  and  the  scenery  is  sufificiently  varied  and  fine  to 
make  it  a  voyage  of  pleasure.  I  found  the  return  trip  nearly  as 
interesting  as  the  upward  one.  This  is  somewhat  more  so  than  it 
would  otherwise  be,  from  the  fact  that  the  locality  we  passed  at 
night  going  up.  we  see  by  day  coming  down. 

And  now,  while  I  write,  my  letter  is  and  will  be  less  connected, 
because  of  the  constant  temptation  to  go  to  the  door  and  use  my 
glass.  The  great  plain  mentioned  as  lying  over  1,000  miles  along 
the  seacoast,  is  apparently  alluvial,  and  has  been  made  by  the 
deposit  from  this  river  and  from  the  turbulent  Hoang-Ho,  which 
aided  in  its  mighty  work  ir  the  northern  part  of  the  empire. 
That  river,  from  what  I  can  learn,  is  much  like  the  Mississippi 
and  its  great  branch,  the  Missouri.  Where  its  dykes  are  laid,  the 
river  constantly  elevates  its  bed,  and  has  frequently  burst  its  con- 
finement, cutting  new  channels  to  the  sea,  carrying  destruction  of 
a  gr-jat  amount  of  propert)-,  and  killing  millions  of  people.  Its 
disposition  to  break  over  the  artificial  barriers  is  a  source  of  con- 
stant dread  to  the  people,  who  never  know  when  the  monster  may 
shake  his  tawny  mane  and  .sweep  them  and  their  property  into 
the  ocean.  Its  mouth  is  to-day  several  hundred  miles  away  from 
the  exit  of  not  many  years  ago.  Like  the  Mississippi,  it  cannot 
be  bridled,  and  is  impatient  even  of  the  slightest  restraint.      Had 


CHINESE  RIVERS. 


103 


our  Southern  planters  been  content  to  turn  sweat  into  upland 
cotton  instead  of  trying  to  confine  the  Father  of  Waters  between 
miserable  earth-works,  the  floods  of  the  Mississippi  valley  would 
have  carried  the  washings  of  countless  millions  of  plowed  fields 
down  to  the  lower  swamps,  and  would  have  made  millions  of 
acres  of  splendid  lands  the  homes  of  a  healthy  people,  instead  of 
leaving  them,  as  they  now  are,  under  the  imperial  sway  of  the 
mosquito  and  the  ague.  This  is  what  the  Lord  intended,  and  had 
He  been  permitted  to  work  out  nature's  designs,  cotton  would 
never  have  attempted  to  usurp  a  throne,  secession  would  have 
been  a  thing  unborr.  and  the  democratic  party,  instead  of  spend- 
ing years  to  undo  mistakes,  would  have  made  America  the  home 
of  100,000,000  of  contented,  happy  people,  all  enjoying  a  com- 
parative equality  of  moderate  fortune;  and  the  monopolist  and 
the  anarchist  would  never — at  least  for  ages — have  become  natu- 
ralized exotics.  Hut  I  am  growing  politically  sentimental.  Senti- 
mental I  am  willing  to  be  in  my  old  age  ;  political — kind  fortune 
guard  me  !  and  protect  me  I 

The  Ho;ing-lIo  is  throughout  the  most  of  the  year  utterly 
unnavigable.  But  during  the  summer  tloods  it  rises  to  a  great 
height,  and  is  often  so  destructive  that  it  has  been  called  the 
"  Chinese  Sorrow."  The  Vang-tse,  though  subject  to  great  rises, 
is  so  calm  and  grand  that  it  shows  no  disposition  to  demonstrate 
its  power.  Low  dykes  easily  hold  it  to  its  bed.  It  feeds  canals 
and  irrigating  ditches,  bearing  blessings  instead  of  sorrow  to  the 
millions  who  are  the  denizens  of  the  lands  which  stretch  for 
hundreds  of  miles  along  its  shores.  The  immediate  river  ban.ks 
are  so  low  that  from  the  steamer's  deck  one  can  look  over  the 
dykes  and  study,  not  only  the  country,  but,  with  a  good  glass, 
even  the  habits,  homes,  and  industries  of  the  people.  Travelling 
by  land  here  is  so  disagreeable  to  the  foreigner,  and  subject  to  so 
many  annoyances,  not  to  say  possible  dangers,  that  few,  except 
missionaries,  attempt  it,  and  these  latter  only  after  acquiring  con- 
siderable knowledge  of  the  language.  Even  then  it  is  found  that 
a  Chinese  costume,  a  shaven  head,  and  a  regulation  queue,  with 
the  ability  to  sleep  in  filtliy  abodes,  and  to  eat  native,  nasty  food 
without  a  wry  face,  are  almost  indispensable.  The  Catholic  mis- 
sionaries, barring  the  complexion,  look  thoroughly  to  the  manner 
born.  Like  St.  Paul,  they  are  "  all  things  to  all  men,"  and 
500,000  Chinese  communicants  attest  the  wisdom  of  their  system. 
Not  only  do  they  pray,  preach,  and  teach,  but  directly,  or  through 
their  agents,  do  a  large  business,  and  have  acquired  to  the  Church 
large  and  valuable  properties.  The  Zickaway  institution,  near 
Shanghai,  belonging  to  the  Socie^^y  of  Jesus,  is  a  noble  foundation. 
Possessing  some  of  the  finest  instruments  in  the  world,  some  'f 
the  brotherhood  are  devoted  to  science,  and  furnish  to  the  pov- 
ernment  meteorological  observations  and  data;  furnish  meridional 
time  to  the  mariner,  and  foretell  storms  and  note  their  track  and 


\w. 


m 


n 


Ml 


m 


'  . 


104 


A  HACE  WITH  THE  SUX. 


( ';-■ 


nature.  They  are  "Old  Probs."  to  these  people.  They  print 
scientific,  religious  writings  and  newspapers,  and  quietly  exercise 
a  great  influence.  They  are  not,  like  most  Protestant  missionary 
societies,  impatient  of  slow  progress,  and  ever  striving  to  show 
returns  of  souls  snatched  from  the  burning.  They  feel  the  Church 
to  be  eternal,  and  that  sooner  or  later  good  returns  will  come. 
They  educate  a  heathen  in  useful  branches  and  in  mechanics,  and 
do  not  try  to  knock  salvation  into  him.  but  patiently  work  and 
pray,  trusting  that  the  educated  soul  will  ultimately  become  an 
inquiring  one.  They  have  schools  in  which  not  only  Christian, 
but  even  pagan  young  men  study  and  prepare  themselves  for  the 
annual  competitive  examinations,  without  which  no  one  can  be  a 
candidate  for  oflficial  position  in  the  empire. 

By  the  way,  few  people  know  in  Christendom  that  there  is 
no  caste  in  China.  The  lowest  as  well  as  the  highest  can  compete 
for  all  positions,  and  none,  except  in  times  of  trouble,  can  reach 
them  without  first  receiving  a  diploma  from  the  board  of  literary 
examiners.  These  examinations  are  said  to  be  so  carefully 
guarded  that  favoritism  is  reduced  to  the  minimum.  Promotion 
is  entirely  according  to  rigid  rules.  But,  unfortunately,  the  hold- 
ing and  continuance  in  office  is  dependent  wholly  upon  the  will 
of  the  emperor,  who  is  absolute  and  a  master.  All  others  acknowl- 
edge themselves  as  his  slaves,  and  so  call  themselves  when  ad- 
dressing the  throne.  The  emperor  owns  every  foot  of  land  in  his 
dominions,  and  fixes  taxes,  rents,  and  imposts  as  he,  from  year  to 
year,  may  deem  fii — that  is  as  nominally  he  deems  fit,  but  in 
reality  as  the  several  governors  of  provinces  so  deem.  His  subjects 
obey  without  questioning  his  motive  or  wisdom,  and  are  generally 
quiet  and  easily  satisfied.  Occasionally,  however,  they  awake  from 
their  lethargy,  and  then  are  the  most  det^-rmined  and  dangerous 
rebels  in  the  world. 

The  Taiping  rebellion,  which  lasted  from  185 1  to  1865,  proved 
the  persistence  and  ferocity  of  those  people  when  once  aroused. 
It  ravaged  more  than  half  of  the  eighteen  provinces.  It  ended 
only  after  having  destroyed  millions  of  peojile  ;  in  fact,  after 
depopulating  the  richest  of  the  agricultural  districts.  I  heard 
the  numbers  destroyed  put  at  io.ocxd.cxx)  to  i5,cxK),ooo,  but  Mr. 
Hart,  the  very  intelligent  superintendent  of  the  Methodist  mis- 
sion on  the  Yang-tse,  told  me  he  thought  the  number  was  between 
20,000,000  and  50,000,000,  not  destroyed  by  being  absolutely 
killed,  though  millions  so  came  to  tlieir  end.  but  by  being  starved 
or  carried  of?  by  diseases  which  resulted  from  poverty  and  want, 
superinduced  by  the  rebellion.  He  has  been  here  20  years,  speaks 
the  language  fluently,  and  has  travelled  over  nearly  all  of  the 
revolted  districts.  Seeing  no  evidence  of  a  very  dense  population 
along  the  Yang-tse,  in  fact,  just  the  opposite.  I  asked  him  his 
opinion  on  this  matter.  He  thought  that  the  jjopulation  of 
China  had  been  greatly  over-estimated,  and  that  there  need  be  no 


CHINESE  EDUCATION. 


105 


anxiety  in  the  outer  world  lest  this  land,  being  overcrowded,  may  be 
dangerous  to  other  lands  ;  that  it  can  support  a  greatly  increased 
number  of  people.  I  should  call  the  Yang-tse  plains  along  the 
river  rather  sparsely  peopled  ;  judging  from  what  I  saw  in  Japan, 
not  half  full.  It  is  true,  this  was  the  line  of  the  great  rebellion, 
but  that  rebellion  ended  considerably  over  20  years  ago,  and  a 
Chinaman  can  erect  a  house  nearly  as  quickly  as  an  Arab  can  set 
his  tent. 

But  to  return  to  Zickaway.  The  institution  has  a  large  orphan 
establishment.  The  little  heathen  look  happy  and  well  fed.  We 
saw  150;  some  at  play,  others  at  work  in  the  shops,  where  they 
learn  good  trades,  while  still  others,  swaying  back  and  forth,  were 
chanting  their  lessons.  Every  thing  looked  Chinese — Chinese 
tools,  Chinese  pos  ^res,  and  Chinese  manners.  As  the  good 
young  father,  who  kindly  showed  us  every  thing,  said,  their  aim 
is  to  make  as  few  innovations  upon  fixed  habits  and  ideas  as  they 
can  consistently  with  the  great  ends  and  aims — Christianity  and 
education.  Thus  they  prepare  their  scholars  to  go  into  the 
Chinese  world,  to  battle  first  for  their  bread,  and  afterwards  for 
the  right.  The  Protestant  missionaries  are  awakening  to  the 
wisdom  of  the  Romish  system,  and  now  one  occasionally  sees  on 
the  steamer  one  of  the  "  interior  missionaries  "  in  the  native  part 
of  the  boat,  in  every  thing,  except  the  yellow  skin,  a  thorough 
Chinaman.  One  of  the  good  men — in  answer  to  my  assertion  that 
a  great  mistake  made  by  christianizers  of  pagan  lands  was  that 
they  persisted  in  preaching  Christ  crucified  to  a  people  enslaved 
by  ignorance  and  superstition,  when,  even  in  our  own  enlightened 
country,  more  than  50  per  cent,  of  the  people  were  unwilling  to 
bear  the  cross — sighed,  and  replied:  "  Yes  !  but  we  can  only  live 
and  work  by  the  aid  of  the  home  churches,  and  they  insist  upon 
receiving,  as  a  dividend,  and  seeing  a  balance  sheet,  showing  souls 
saved." 

It  took  many  hundred  years  to  christianize  Europe,  and  then 
it  was  a  slow  process  until  the  rulers  were  themselves  converted. 
Missionaries  can  do  great  good  in  these  far-off  countries.  But 
their  work  can  be  made  still  more  efificient  by  first  making  educa- 
tion the  handmaid  to  and  forerunner  of  religion.  Teach  the 
child  to  read  and  think,  and  when  it  becomes  a  man  or  woman  it 
will  see  the  folly  of  the  old  superstitions.  The  ground  will  then 
be  prepared  for  the  true  seed.  But  these  heathen  find  it  hard  to 
understand  how  our  different  sects  so  dispute  with  each  other 
after  1,800  years  of  Christian  rule.  Buddhism  amalgamated  with 
the  older  superstitions  and  won  ;  and  our  Saviour  himself  says, 
He  came  to  build  up,  not  to  destroy. 

Not  being  able  to  go  among  the  farmers,  I  have  been  constantly 
on  deck  with  the  glass  in  my  hand,  and  in  going  up  and  returning 
I  have  seen  nearly  every  house  and  hamlet,  town  and  city,  along 
the  shore,  and  much  of  it  from  close  view.     Looking  upon  the 


!I 


\^^m 


\^ 


m'- 


io6 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


i  ,'i  y 


lowlands  as  they  lie  upon  a  level  with  the  eye,  they  seem  at  first 
almost  wooded,  but  on  closer  inspection  the  trees  are  found  to  be 
about  the  houses  and  hamlets  and  along  the  canals.     The  foliage 
of  one  tree  appears  to  run  into  that  of  another,  which  may  be  far 
behind  it.      Canals  or  bayous  run  into  the  river  every  few  miles. 
These  intersect  each  other  back  in  tlic  country — so  much  so  that 
the  whole  country  for  1,200  or  1,300  miles  north  and  south,  and 
from  200  to  300  or  more  miles  cast  and  west,  when  not  interrupted 
by  the  mountain  ranges,  is  a  perfect  network  of  waterways.    The 
masts  of  junks  are  occasionally  seen  miles  back  over  the  tops  of 
the  low  trees.     The  canals  carry  commerce  and  irrigating  water. 
The  banks  of  the  rivers  and  of  the  artificial  and  natural  canals  are 
all  dj'kcd.     Sometimes  on  the  river  the  dykes  run  quite  far  back, 
100,  200,  and  even  more  feet  from  the  banks.     The  land  in  front 
of  them  is  overflowed  from  June  to  September  or  October.     As 
soon  as  the  water  recedes  this  is  sown  in  wheat,  which  will  be  har- 
vested in  May,  before  the  summer  floods  come  down.     It  is  sur- 
prising how  wet  the  land  is  plowed.     I  have  ■>(i>zw  it  worked  when 
wet   enough  to  make  stiff  mortar.     This  soil  makes  good  sun- 
dried   brick,  yet  seems   friable  after  the   crop  is    put    in.     The 
plowing  is  done  with  a  single-handed  plow,  drawn  by  a  buffalo  or 
cow,  generally  the  former,  which  are  sturdy-looking  brutes  and 
very  strong.      When  not  working  they  graze,  each  in  charge  of  a 
boy.      Frequently  they  are  seen  lying  in  the  edge  of  the  river, 
with  barely  the  head  out,  and  do  not  get  up  when  the  wave  from 
the  boat  ggcs  quite  over  the    head  ;  they  simply  lift  the  nose 
higher.     The  grain   is  generally   sown  broadcast,  a  little   being 
drilled.     About  half  of  the  fields  now  are  up  and  green,  and  what 
speaks  badly  for  the  farmer,  are  very  often  being  grazed  by  the 
buffalo  and  cows  and  by  hogs,  a  thing  never  permitted  by  one  of 
our  good  farmers.     By  the  way,  the  buffalo  is  by  no  means  like 
our  wild  bison  ;  it  is  the  bubolo,  or  water-ox. 

The  land  is  evidently  cultivated  in  small  holdings,  narrow,  long 
fields,  as  in  Belgium  and  parts  of  Germany.  One  little  field, 
however,  so  runs  into  another  that  on  an  island  we  saw  many 
thousands  of  acres  nearly  all  green,  and  to  the  naked  eye  looking 
like  a  single  large  farm.  There  are  a  great  many  low  islands  in 
the  river,  varying  in  size  from  lOO  to  200  acres  up  to  a  great 
many  miles  in  length,  most  of  them  in  cultivation.  The  farming 
does  not  strike  me  as  being  good.  It  may  be  better  off  the  over- 
flowed land.  But  near  Shanghai,  where  I  rode  several  miles  into 
the  country,  I  was  struck  by  the  great  inferiority  of  the  Chinese 
farming  to  that  of  the  Japanese.  Every  thing,  except  rice  and 
vegetables,  is  broad-casted— even  the  cotton,— and  cannot  be 
worked  as  it  is  in  the  Land  of  the  Rising  Sun,  where  every  thing 
is  in  drills,  and  thoroughly  cultivated.  The  result  is,  these  people 
raise  no  such  crops  as  do  the  others.  This  judgment  is  not 
wholly  drawn  from  what  we  saw  from  the  steamers,  but  at  cities 


J';- 11 


CHINESE  FARMING. 


107 


I  ascended  elevations  from  which  I  could  overlook  and  examine 
with  my  glass  large  areas  of  cultivated  lands.  Nor  do  the  fields 
often  make  the  bright  landscape  presented  by  the  farms  of  Japan. 
There  the  varied  crops,  the  great  variety  of  root  crops  particular- 
ly, make  the  whole  country  look  like  the  elaborate  vegetable 
gardens  about  an  English  or  American  city.  Here  vegetables  are 
grown  in  small  truck  patches,  instead  of  being  a  regular  farm 
product. 

I  expected,  from  what  I  had  read,  to  find  that  the  farmers  live 
in  villages;  several  travellers  so  stating  positively.  It  is  not  so 
along  this  great  valley.  Farm-houses  are  abundant,  not  isolated 
as  with  us,  in  the  middle  of  good-sized  farms,  but  on  the  ridges — 
artificial  generally, — and  stand  50,  100,  and  sometimes  several 
hundred  yards  apart.  It  is  true  little  hamlets  are  often  seen,  where 
three  or  four  farmers'  houses  are  thrown  around  courts  or  farm- 
yards. Now  and  then  a  farm-house  of  hard  brick  with  tile  roof 
is  seen.  But  most  of  them  are  of  sun-dried  brick  or  of  light 
frame  with  reeds  interwoven,  and  then  mud-plastered — in  other 
words,  miserable  huts  or  hovels  designed  simply  for  shelter,  with 
no  attempt  whatever  at  any  sort  of  ornamentation.  The  trees 
about  them  are  evidently  for  shade,  and  not  arranged  to  please 
tlie  eye  ;  no  flowers  and  no  adjuncts  for  beauty.  The  same  ill- 
cut  and  badly  arranged  thatched  roof  covers  tlie  dwelling-house, 
and  continues  over  that  part  devoted  to  the  buffalo  and  cow. 
The  pig,  the  cow,  the  chickens,  and  the  dog  stand  about  the 
house  door,  where  sit  the  women  and  the  children,  and  before 
which,  after  sun-down,  the  man  would  be  seen  strutting  with  his 
hands  locked  behind  him.  The  Chinese  man,  in  city  and  on 
farm,  delights  to  saunter  in  a  sort  of  strut  when  his  work  is  done. 
One  sees  tiiis  in  cities  only  with  the  comparatively  well-to-do 
merchant,  for  the  cooly  or  the  mechanic  has  no  time  to  strut.  His 
work  is  never  done  wliile  it  is  light  enough  to  do  any  thing.  He 
works  by  day  and  by  lamp-light.  When  not  working  he  is  eating, 
gambling,  sleeping,  or  looking  for  a  job.  The  farmers,  however, 
saunter  along  the  river  bank.  They  are  frequently  alone,  or  with 
a  little  boy  or  two,  never  with  their  wives.  These  and  the  little 
girls  rarely  promenade  with  the  lords  of  creation.  A  boy  baby  is 
a  man's  blessing  ;  a  girl  he  despises,  and  leaves  to  be  the  compan- 
ion of  the  drudging  mother.  The  farmer's  domestic  animal  is  as 
thoroughly  domestic  and  a  part  of  the  family  as  the  dog  or  cat. 
They  do  not  eat  cats  and  dogs  in  northern  China.  And  here 
I  will  add,  the  people  I  have  seen  so  far  are  good-sized,  and  a  far 
superior  lot  to  those  who  go  to  America.  Our  Celestial  emigrants 
come  from  the  Hong  Kong  district,  speak  a  different  dialect, 
or  pronounce  very  differently  from  those  in  the  northern  half  of 
the  empire,  and  are  very  much  despised  by  them.  Though  not 
knowing  a  word  of  Chinese,  I  can  tell  when  I  hear  a  man  talk  if  he 
be  from  northern  China  or  from  Hong  Kong.     These  latter  are 


MAM 


:  Tf 


io8 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUX. 


'    '  ; 


f 


met  with  as  sailors  and  waiters  on  the  steamers,  and  are  said  to  do 
better  as  servants  and  coolies  than  those  from  the  north. 

The  hogs  are  the  scavnigcrs  of  the  cities,  anil  up  here  are 
all  black,  have  very  long  Hap-ears,  and  a  snout  and  face-front 
singularly  wrinkled,  utterly  different  from  what  is  known  as  the 
China  pig  in  our  country.  They  are  the  demurest-looking  brutes 
one  can  imagine. 

The  farmers  seem  to  be  also  fishermen.  This  is  a  vast  business 
on  the  Yang-tse.  For  i,00O  miles  a  huge  dip-net  is  to  be  seen 
even,-  lOO  or  so  yards  on  either  bank.  It  is  from  20  to  30  feet 
square,  is  attached  to  a  long  pole  inserted  in  the  banks,  and  lifted 
by  pulleys.  The  fisherman  invariably  lifted  his  net  as  we  passed, 
intending  probably  to  have  it  up  before  the  steamer's  swell  should 
drive  the  fish  out.  A  large  fish  caught  is  taken  out  by  a  scoop- 
net.  The  smaller  ones  drop  through  a  throat  in  the  centre  of  the 
net  into  a  bag,  where  they  remain  until  the  fisherman  is  ready  to 
quit.  Thousands  of  fishing  boats  arc  to  be  seen,  and  in  swarms 
early  in  the  morning  and  late  in  the  evening ;  some  with  dip-nets 
ingeniously  rigged  out  at  the  stern  and  also  lifted  by  the  pulleys, 
others  with  drag  nets.  This  muddy  river  is  full  of  fish  in  great 
variety,  and  some  of  them  of  large  size.  In  the  spring  vast  quan- 
tities of  "  samlai,"  a  species  of  shad,  are  caught.  They  are  said 
to  be  fine.  I  have  myself  seen  many  varieties  of  fish,  some  very 
beautiful,  and  have  eaten  several  kinds  which  are  equal  to  any 
fresh-water  fish  I  know. 

As  with  the  Japanese,  fish  seems  to  be  the  flesh  food  ^f  the 
average  Chinese.  Pork  is  his  delight,  but  fish  is  his  regular  flesh 
diet.  It  is  everywhere  to  be  seen  for  sale,  and  is  carried  dried  in 
great  quantities  to  the  far  interior.  It  is  very  cheap,  the  very  best 
costing  only  two  or  three  cents  a  pound.  Many  singular  modes 
of  catching  fish  are  practised.  Boys  and  men  dive  down  from  the 
piers  in  the  cities  and  bring  up  good-sized  ones.  They  catch 
them  in  their  hiding-places.  But  still  more  amusing  is  to  see  a 
boat  go  out,  with  a  bamboo  pole  across  its  bow,  having  a  dozen 
or  so  trained  cormorants  perched  upon  it.  Reaching  the  fishing- 
grounds  a  cord  is  tied  about  a  bird's  neck,  and  he  is  sent  down  to 
fish.  He  rarely  fails  to  bring  one  up.  Me  cannot  swallow  it  on 
account  of  the  cord  on  his  "guzzle,"  so  he  brings  it  to  his  master, 
who  rewards  him  with  a  small  fish,  and  sends  down  another. 
And  so  on  till  he  fills  his  boat.  Some  of  the  birds  are  so  trained 
that  throttling  is  not  necessary.  This  mode  of  fishing  is  used 
more  on  the  small  lakes  or  ponds,  left  when  the  river  falls,  than 
in  the  river  itself.  Vast  numbers  of  such  lakes  are  left  when  the 
floods  go  down,  and  these  arc  simply  alive  with  the  finny  tribes. 

I  saw  no  evidence  of  dense  population"  in  the  plain  or  valley, 
but  quite  the  contrary.  All  of  this  alluvial  country  is  of  great 
fertility,  and  it  is  apparent  that  the  hills  have  many  of  them  at 
some  time  or  other  been  considerably  terraced.      Now  the  plains 


CHR  Y SAN  Til  EM  VMS. 


109 


are  not  a  third  full,  and  the  mountains,  as  far  as  I  could  sec  back 
among  them,  furnish  but  little  support  for  man.  They  are  barren 
of  trees,  and  look  almost  as  brown  as  the  ranges  of  Nevada,  and 
remind  me,  in  some  localities,  very  much  of  them.  Now  and 
then  one  sees  trees  about  temples  perched  high  up,  and  a  few 
sparsely  scattered  along  the  gorges  and  crests  of  lofty  hills,  thus 
showing  tliat  they  could  grow  in  forests  if  properly  protected. 
Ikit  these  people  suffer  greatly  during  the  cold  winters,  which  arc 
not  infrequent.  Their  houses  are  miserable  hovels  with  no  chim- 
neys, ami  their  clothing  is  composed  entirely  of  cotton  stuff. 
They  not  only  cut  the  )<)ung  trees  and  shrubs,  but  actually  grub 
up  the  roots  for  fuel.  Straw,  cotton  stalks,  bushes,  bulrushes,  and 
the  leaves  of  the  trees  are  gathered  and  baled  for  winter  use.  On 
some  of  the  overflowed  lands,  too  wet  for  wheat,  a  sort  of  coarse, 
reedy  rush  grows  in  great  luxuriance,  and  to  a  height  of  10  to  15 
feet.  This  is  now  all  being  cut,  and  is  used  for  mats,  screens,  and 
for  the  W()\eii  sides  of  hovels.  We  saw  women  raking  up  the 
leaves  of  these  rushes,  and  carefully  tying  them  into  bundles  for 
fuel.  It  is  now  nearly  the  middle  of  November,  and  yet  many  of 
the  vegetable  cro])s  in  the  truck  patches  about  the  farm-houses 
are  but  half  matured.  A  frost  to  hurt  does  not  come  until  about 
Christmas,  but  after  that  there  is  weather  cold  enough  to  form 
considerable  ice.  It  is  said,  however,  that,  as  in  Japan,  the  frost 
does  not  kill,  as  with  us  in  America. 

After  returning  to  Shanghai  I  paid  a  farewell  visit  to  the  oublic 
garden  to  get  one  more  look  at  the  chrysanthemums,  which  are 
iu>w  in  full  bloom.  We  in  America  have  no  conception  of  the 
beauty  of  this  tlower  when  perfected.  I  measured  one  flower,  a 
perfect  ball,  every  petal  placed  just  where  it  should  be,  and  as 
white  nearly  as  snow,  and  found  it  was  20  inches  around, 
without  stretching  out  its  petals,  when  measured  horizontally, 
and  18  inches  measured  vertically.  Spreading  its  petals  out 
it  was  over  eight  inches  in  diameter.  On  one  little  plat,  three 
feet  by  eight,  I  counted  42  perfect  flowers,  from  four  to  seven 
inches  in  diameter.  One  smaller  variety  resembled  a  beauti- 
fully formed  aster.  I  had  to  examine  the  leaf  befot  i  could 
satisfy  myself  that  it  was  not  of  that  family.  Anotlic.  ,,as  the 
size,  form,  and  compactness  of  a  fine  dahlia.  There  are  many 
varieties,  some  fringed,  some  quilled,  and  some  compact,  with 
petals  resembling  a  mass  of  bent  gourd  seed  These  latter  are  as 
solid  and  compact  as  a  ball  of  candied  pop-corn.  To  see  this  col- 
lection is  worth  a  long  voyage. 

I  am  now  finishing  this  letter  on  board  the  Kut  Sang,  a  few 
miles  south  of  Amoy,  on  the  Eastern  Sea  of  China.  We  have 
])assed  a  great  many  bold  mountain  islands.  They  resemble  the 
mountain  ridges  lying  from  100  to  350  miles  west  of  Shanghai, 
and  suggest  tlie  idea  that  those  were  once  out  in  the  ocean,  and 
that  the  Yang-t.se-Kiang  has  filled  a  part  of  the  sea  and  left  the 


\-  ^ 


nF 


i! 


\-\ 


'     .      :     , 


ni 


I  VM 


i 


no 


./  KACJ':  in  17/  THE  SUN. 


.  •  I: 

■'■' 


mniintnins  as  islaiuls  in  the  ])Iain.  The  enormous  wash  from  the 
Iloang-IIo  and  Vanij-tse-Kiaiig  is  said  to  be  filling  the  sea  very 
rapidly. 

Last   nit^ht  we  witnessed  an  extraordinary  exhibition  of  phos- 
phorescent   lights.      The  officers    of    the    ship    say    they    have 
never  seen  it  sur|)assed,  and  hope  not  to  see  it  often  repeated,  for 
it   made   the  surface  of  the  sea   so   light   and   so   dazzling   that 
though  the  stars  were  out   yet  the  sky  seemed   intensely  black, 
anil  some  island  headlands,  which  ought  to  have  been  landmarks 
to  navigate  by,  were  not  visible.     There  was  a  brisk,  monsoon 
wind  coming  down   from   the  north,  covering  the  sea  with  white- 
caps.     These  were  all  aflame,  and  as  tliey  rose  and  fell,  resembled 
a  wild   dance  of  fairies  robed   in    light.     Here  and   there   a  wave 
would  lift  Iiigher  tiian  the  rest,  and  would  whirl  and   pirouette  in 
mad  glee.     The  horizon  looked  like  a  thin   band  of  jiale  electric 
light,  as   if   made  by  an  arc   burner  reflected   upon    gauze.     ,\t 
times  the  whole  se.i  was  ablaze,  and  one  could  almost  feel  cert.iin 
of  seeing  gentle   lightning   flashes   from   above  when   the   blaze 
would  die  out,  and  there  seemed  to  be  millions  of  twinkling  stars 
darting  about  in  the  dark  waters.    At  times  for  a  mile  or  so  there 
would  be  no  great  mass  of  light  near  us,  but  only  these  twinkling 
ones,  or  the  flaming  foam  made  by  the  prow  of  the  ship  catching 
and  rolling  it  back.     The  ship  was  lying  apparentlj"  in  a  bl.izing 
pool,  not  much  larger  than  itself   which  moved  aliMig  with  us  anil 
carried  us  along,  instead  of  our  moving  in  it.     Where  the  screw 
churned   the  sea  under  the  stern,  the  mass  seemed   to  be  a  cold, 
molten  metal,  so  bright  that  it  cast  a  shadow.     I  held  my  watch 
over  it.     The  face  shone  bright  enough   to  enable  me   to  see   the 
hands  and   read   the  dial.     It  was  a  fascinating  scene,  and  v>ith 
regret   I   turned  in  considerably  after  midnight.     I   have  often 
watched  these  displays  on  the  Atlantic,  and  thought  them   fine, 
but  compared  with  this  they  were  as  flashings  from  fireflies. 


\\ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

CIIINKSK  CITIKS,  IIOUSKS,  TLM  I'LKS,  AM)  WDUKSIinPS — CA'I'   AM> 

DOG    KOASIS — ll.OATINC;    I'(  )1'UI.A1H)N    OV   CANTON— 

l-I.OWKR  IIOATS—  \V()Mi:\  Va  -AIMKN — SUSAX. 

Steamship  "^  Afi'ii^^kiit,"  iVmrml'er  24,  18S7. 

It  is  now  liii,Mi  twi'lvc.  and  Cai)tain  Anilcrson  has  just  an- 
nounced that  \vc  arc  in  hititiulc  8  "^  29'  n"iih,  K)ngitudc  104^  3<S  ' 
cast.  Wc  sailed  from  Ilon^  Kony  tht;  joth  at  4.30  I'.M.  for 
Ban^kolx.  Wc  arc  out  of  tlic  Cliina  Sea.  and  have  entered  into 
the  (iulf  of  Siani,  We  have  been  upon  a  ])ale  }'ello\v,  pca-fjrecn 
sea  all  day.  It  will  tjet  blue  later.  It  is  shoaly  all  about  Cape 
Cambodia  and  for  a  lons^  distance  out.  Yesterday  we  looked 
down  upon  a  sea  of  emerald,  broken  into  lii^ht,  feathery,  pros- 
trate, foamy  plumes  ;  the  day  before  we  seemed  to  be  plowin<^ 
through  a  vat  of  indi_i;o  dye,  so  deeply  blue  was  the  world  of 
waters  about  us. 

When  we  wciijhed  anchor  at  llon^  Kon^,  Johnny,  Willie,  and 
1  lay  down  upon  easy-chairs  on  the  (juartcr-ileck  to  enjoy  a  genu- 
ine rc't.  The  air  was  dcliciously  balmy.  We  were  the  only 
passenfjers,  as  we  also  were  from  Kobe  to  Shanghai  and  from 
.Shanghai  to  Swatow  and  Hong  Kong,  and  could  feel  the  .ship 
was  our  own.  About  us  was  the  busy  harbor,  with  its  24  steam- 
ers, its  many  sailing  shiijs  and  junks,  and  its  hundreds  of  sam- 
pans, crossing  each  other's  tracks  in  every  direction,  like  flies 
in  a  sunmier  room.  The  beautiful  harbor,  from  a  mile  to  two 
and  a  half  miles  wide,  lay  land-locked  by  lofty  heights  in  every 
direction,  and  resembled  a  crooked  lake  in  a  mountain  land.  To 
the  north,  upon  the  water's  edge,  were  pretty,  white  buildings, 
hospitals,  dry  docks,  and  their  necessary  hou.ses,  and  at  farther 
points  dingy-looking  Chinese  villages ;  to  the  south,  stretching 
along  the  inner  cord  of  a  crescent  for  two  or  three  miles,  near 
the  centre,  were  the  three-story  hongs  or  merchant  houses,  with 
factories  and  manufactories  toward  cither  end  of  the  bow.  Tier 
after  tier,  one  behind  the  other,  came  houses  piled  one  upon 
the  other,  on  long,  bending  terraces,  climbing  400,  500,  and 
600  feet  upon  the  steep  mountain  sides.  All  buildings, 
except  the  churches  and  factories,  were  fronted  and  flanked 
by  deep  colonnades  and  verandas  for  each  story.  Here  and 
there,    more     ambitious    than     the    mass,    isolated     bungalows 

HI 


t   . 


i.t 


'|'r,'i 


i  f 


s% 


\<^ 


k  ■? 


"  3*7 'nr  'I  I'^f-'i 


t  t}k 


.:   4 


.  .1 


J>    !: 


•h  " 


!•'( 


112 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SL'iY. 


mount  above  the  regular  terraces,  and  are  nestled  do"'n  in  the  dark- 
green  of  tropical  trees  and  shrubbery.  Ever\-\vhere,  except  on 
the  water  tront,  and  for  one  or  two  streets  back,  long  lines  of  fine 
trees  in  glossy  dark  green  mark  the  windings  of  the  terraced 
roadways.  High  overhciid,  nearl\-  2,000  feet  above  us,  lifted 
Victoria  Peak  "with  its  lookout  tower.  About  its  summit, 
and  for  a  few  liundred  feet  below,  and  along  the  crest  of  the  ad- 
joining mountain,  100  feet  perhaps  lower  than  the  peak, 
were  bright,  white  colonnaded  bungalow  houses,  the  homes  dur- 
ing the  summer  of  the  wealthy  Hong  Kongese  and  the  summer 
palace  of  the  colonial  governor.  Hetween  these  upper  clusters 
of  houses  and  those  climbing  the  heights  below,  for  i.ocx)  or 
more  feet,  lay  the  steep  mountain  sides  partially  i>lanted  in  }oung 
pine,  but  generally  wearing  the  brownish  green  of  autumnal 
grass.  Across  this  intermediate  steep  slope  ran  zigzag  i)eauti^ 
fully  engineered  roads  white  among  the  shrubs,  climbing  in 
different  directio.is  the  loftiest  heights,  while  crossing  them  from 
the  western  end  of  the  town,  by  an  easy  and  gradual  risi'.  ran  the 
beautiful  viaduct  road,  it  being  also  an  aciuedui  t  over  briilges  and 
arched  ways,  sometimes  consisting  of  20  odd  lofty  arches.  To  the 
west  the  nin  was  rapidly  seeking  its  couch  in  a  flootl  of  yellow-red 
light. 

We  steamed  arouiui  the  picturesi|ue  island,  once  famous  as  the 
birtliplace  of  the  deadly  Hong  Kong  fever,  but  now  having  a.s 
low  a  death-rate  as  most  European  cities,  and  lower  than  any,  if 
only  the  foreign  population  be  counted.  They,  however,  go  off, 
I  suspect,  to  their  far-off  homes  when  disease  sets  its  stamp  upon 
them.  They  certainly  ought  to  die  fast,  all  of  these  Euro|)eans 
in  the  East  ;  they  eat  too  much  and  far  too  often,  ami  drink  like 
fish.  I  do  not  think  any  of  them  have  any  bowels  of  compassion 
for  the  natives,  but  every  one  is  thoroughly  conscious  of  having  a 
liver.  I  may  be  rather  hard  upon  them  as  to  their  lack  of  feeling 
for  the  natives,  but  if  so  it  is  their  own  fault.  The)-  certainl_\' 
rarely  speak  of  them  with  half  as  much  kindness  as  Lliey  do  of 
their  ponies  (when  they  have  any).  For  example  :  the  steamer 
which  followed  us  to  Canton  was  burned  up.  and  400  to  (hx) 
Chinese  passengers  were  burned  or  Irowned.  .Several  times 
this  disaster  was  the  subject  of  conversation  among  Europeans  in 
my  presence.  They  always  spoke  with  great  satisfaction  of  the 
foreign  officers  being  all  saved,  and  passed  by  the  other  terrible 
loss  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and  some  remark,  such  as, 
"Ti^.ere  's  plent\'more  to  fill  their  ])lacr  ."  It  is  said  the  present 
healthiness  of  Victoria  or  Hong  Kong  is  owing  to  the  island 
having  been  so  \v'ell  planted  in  young  pines,  etc. 

I  can,  by  the  way,  hardly  help  but  shudder  when  I  think  of  ♦^his 
burning  steamer.  We  went  from  Hong  Kong  to  Canton  by  the 
morning  boat.  While  at  breakfast,  just  before  starting  from  our 
hotel,  a  friend  who  had  reached  the  place  some  days  before  us. 


THE  POLOOBI  ISLANDS. 


'13 


joined  us  at  table  and  advised  us  to  take  the  evening  boat,  and 
tiiereby  save  a  day  and  not  lose  any  scenery.  We  would  prob- 
ably have  taken  his  advice  but  for  the  fact  that  when  we  went 
from  the  breakfast-room  on  luggage  was  already  down,  and  our 
room  assigned  to  others.  This  little  thing  alone  kept  us  off  the 
evening  boat,  which  burned,  and  with  it  from  500  to  600  passen- 
gers.    This  was  our  only  narrow  escai)e  up  to  date. 

Just  at  nightfall  we  passeil  the  Ladrone  Islands,  I  well  re- 
member, when  1  used  to  read  tiie  "  Pirates  '  Own  Hook  "  and  other 
kindred  wo.  ks,  these  names  were  always  connected  in  my  mind 
with  the  home-i  of  the  human  sharks  of  the  sea. 

The  2 1  St  .'tud  22d  our  little  ship  of  only  800  tons  rolled 
heavily  and  rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  ileep.  The  northeast 
monsoon,  which  commenced  its  steady  course  nearly  two  months 
ago,  brought  down  heavy  seas  upon  our  quarter,  nearly  upon  our 
beam,  so  that  we  rolled  and  heaved  in  the  deep  sea-trough  very 
badly.  We  lashed  easy-chairs  upon  the  centre  line  of  the  quar- 
ter-deck, and  to  a  considerable  extent  jjassed  a  pleasant  tiine. 
We  lay  all  ilay  drinking  in  the  balmy  tropical  air,  watching  the 
deep  sea,  as  blue  as  a  mighty  vac  of  intligc^  dye,  and  building  cas- 
tles in  the  light,  fleecj-,  cumuli  clouds  piled  up  all  around  us. 
Yesterday  we  bent  more  to  the  westward,  throwing  the  seas  di- 
rectly aft.  and  tht;  ship  only  swayed  gentl) ,  but  I  could  hardly 
force  myseif  to  write.  It  was  so  pleasant  to  lie  on  deck  and 
dream  and  dream.  To  our  right  were  the  high,  broken,  brown 
ranges  of  1  ochin  China.  Far  to  the  west  stretched  the  bound- 
less oce.ui.  for  the  Philippine  Islands  are  hundreds  of  milesaway; 
beyond  them  is  tiie  mighty,  surging  Pacific,  washing  the  far-off 
shores  of  ou'"  native  land,  ami  beyond  them  were  those  we  loved 
so  dearly.  We  h.avc  ste.imed  among  hundreds  of  Chinese  fishing- 
boats.  All  of  these  and  all  junks  are  uni)ainted,  but  have  o!i  each 
bow-cjuarter  a  great  flaring  eye  painted  in  bright  color.  I  asked  a 
Chinaman  wiiy  this  was  universal:  "  Him  no  have  eye,  how  him 
can  see?"  was  the  reply  in  pigeon  English. 

T^vo  hours  .igo  we  passed  i'oloobi — Potato — Islands,  south  of 
Cambodi.i  mainland,  three  pretty,  dome-shaped  pieces  of  land, 
,the  largest  prob.ibly  one  to  two  miles  in  circumference,  and  400  to 
500  f  jet  higli  ;  the  ne.xt,  not  a  third  as  l.irge  tid  lower  ;  the  third,  a 
few  hundred  fiet  in  circumference.  We  lan  quite  under  them 
and  admired  their  dense  tropical  forcls,  all  covered  with  hard 
wood  of  many  varieties,  but  to  me  unfamiliar.  The  tiiermonieter 
is  82  °  in  the  shade,  pretty  warm  for  the  last  of  November. 

But  I  must  write  of  the  Chinese  and  their  cities.  We  liave  not 
been  long  among  them,  only  a  few  weeks,  but  every  day  and 
evening  were  spent  in  work.  The  neighborhood  of  the  almond- 
eyed  Celestial  neither  suggests  nor  invites  idle  enjoyment.  Om 
the  steamers  we  were  constantly  on  deck,  watching  the  counfy 
•we  were  passing,  watching  the  mass  of  Chinese  passengers  stored 


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114 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


between  and  upo  1  decks  (going  up  to  Canton  we  had  2,500 
packed  like  pigs  in  a  car),  or  collating  facts  and  digesting  ideas. 
We  have  visited  and  somewhat  closely  studied  old  Shanghai, 
Chin-Kiang,  Wuhu,  Kieu-Kiang,  and  Hankow,  all  large,  walled 
cities  in  the  Yang-tsc  valley;  Swatow,  on  the  seacoast,  180  nniles 
north  of  Hong  Kong ;  and  Canton,  the  largest  and  finest  of 
Chinese  cities.  These  are  all  purely  Chinese.  We  were  in  the 
outskirts  of  several  other  walled  towns,  and  thoroughly  explored 
New  Shanghai,  with  its  150,000  inhabitants  or  more,  and  Vic- 
toria (Hong  Kong)  with  140,000  native  population.  These  sev- 
eral cities  are  scattered  over  a  wide  extent  of  country.  Canton 
being  900  and  odd  miles  by  water,  and  nearly  700  as  the  crow 
flies  south-west  from  Shanghai,  and  Hankow  600  to  800  miles 
from  each  of  the  others. 

The  dialects  spoken,  north  and  south,  arc  so  different,  one  from 
the  other,  that  I  saw  in  a  court  of  justice  in  Canton  an  interpreter 
used  to  convey  to  the  magistrate  the  answers  of  the  prisoners, 
who  were  north  Cliinamen.  I  was  told  the  words  and  construc- 
tion of  all  dialects,  of  which  there  are  many,  are  practically  the 
same,  but  the  pronunciations  are  so  varied  that,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  there  arc  several  languages  spoken  in  the  empire.  In 
spite  of  all  this,  as  far  as  I  could  see,  the  people  are  thoroughly 
homogeneous,  the  same  in  thought,  in  manners,  in  customs,  and 
habits.  All  are  industrious — their  industry  plodding  almost  ani- 
mal in  its  patient  steadiness.  Acutencss  and  cunning  seem  more 
evinced  among  those  of  the  south  than  among  their  brethren 
of  the  north,  superinduced,  I  doubt  not,  by  their  earlier  and 
longer  intercourse  with  foreigners,  who  had  and  yet  have  little 
feeling  in  common  with  the  natives.  They  came  to  the  East 
as  their  congeners  went  to  the  West,  in  quest  of  gold  ami 
fortunes,  and  left  their  rules  of  ethics  far-off  in  their  Christian 
homes,  as  likely  to  be  incumbrances  when  dealing  witii  pagans 
and  those  the\-  choose  to  call  barbarians.  I  do  not  want  any 
Chinese  in  America,  because  I  w  isii  ours  to  be  a  homogeneous 
people,  and  amalgamation  of  the  almond-eyed  sons  of  another 
progenitor  than  Adam  can  produce  only  hybrids  with  our  Cau- 
casian races.  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  feel  that  America  i^ 
to  be  or  should  be  the  harbor  of  refuge  for  all  lands  ami  all 
peoples.  It  should  be  the  home  of  those,  and  only  those,  who 
can  become  Americans  in  every  sense  of  the  word.  This  the 
Chinaman  cannot  do.  and  I  would  therefore  say  to  him  :  "  ^'ou 
may  come  among  us  for  pleasure  or  for  information,  but  \ou 
cannot  work  on  a  soil  you  do  not  consider  good  enough  for 
your  dead  bones." 

The  foreigner,  European  and  American,  comes  to  China  to 
make  money  to  carry  back  with  him.  He,  too,  wants  his  dead 
body  to  lie  in  the  graveyards  of  his  native  land.  Coming 
thus,  feeling  thus,    he    is    too  utterly  lacking  in  those  feelings 


INFIDELITY  AMONG  FOUEIGNERS. 


"5 


and  kindly  sympathies  which  l8cx)  years  of  Christian  teachings 
should  have  planted  in  his  breast.  By  the  way,  I  have  been 
struck  by  the  open  expressions  of  absolute  infidelity  uttered 
by  so  many  foreigners  here.  Many  seem  proud  of  the  ability 
to  say :  "  I  am  no  Christian ;  I  don't  believe  in  Christianity." 
One  hears  sneers  uttered  about  the  missionaries  everywhere, 
and  no  joke  is  told  with  more  gusto  than  the  one  about  the 
good  man  in  Japan,  who  reported  home  that,  "The  few  bricks 
left  after  building  the  temple  of  the  Lord  we  used  in  erecting 
a  little  house  for  ourselves."  The  temple,  they  say,  was  a 
miserable  little  pretence  of  a  church,  while  the  dwelling-house 
was  a  commodious  and  comfortable  building.  They  delight  to 
point  out  the  charming  gardens  and  comfortable  houses  of  the 
missionaries  in  sor.ic  localities,  particularly  in  Japan,  and  pass 
over  in  silence  the  work  of  many  good  men  and  women  who  are 
sundering  their  home  affections,  in  their  desire  to  teach  the  ways 
of  God  to  man.  These  good  people  have  to  be  fed  and  housed. 
It  has  beiMi  a  long  wliile  since  the  Lord  actually  fed  the  young 
ravens,  human  or  fe.ithered. 

The  north  Chinaman  is  larger  and  more  muscular  than  those  of 
the  south,  but  less  ijuick  and  active,  lioth  are  creatures  of  liabit, 
and  it  is  difficult  to  make  them  recognize  the  necessit)'  for  im- 
provements of  any  sort.  I^ut  when  innovatinns  arc  inaugurated 
they  quickly  take  advantage  of  them  for  theii  "un  profit.  They 
will  never  seek  progress,  as  do  the  bright  and  h<>[)eful  Japanese. 
I'rogress  must  be  f(jrced  upon  them.  They  are  born,  giuw  up, 
eat,  live,  die,  and  are  buried,  as  their  t  ithers  have  tlone  before 
them  for  countless  generations,  and  couni  infilial  and  irreverent 
to  wish  or  to  iinagiiu-  thai  the  wa\'s  of  tin.  ir  ciiionizi  <1  pro-^cnitors 
m.iy  be  or  can  be  inii)roved  upon.  Ihe  dead  f.itiv  .  becomes  the 
son's  househoUl  god,  and  he  chooses  from  among  hi-  forefathers 
him  who  is  to  fill  the  niche  in  his  domestic  slirinr. 

Tliey  work  like  ants — not  like  bees  buzzing  .md  l.urnnung  as 
the  Japanese  (1<>,--I)ut  like  the  plodding,  patient,  never-to-be-dis- 
couraged ant,  and  as  (juickly  as  their  work  is  fii.ished,  can  lie 
down  and  sleej)  like  animals.  And  like  animals,  too,  can  g  t  as 
much  rest,  stolen  in  little  cat-naps,  as  from  the  same  .unounl  ob- 
tained in  a  steady  doze.  They  have  no  conception  of  tiie  con- 
gruous, and  none  of  their  .senses  seem  ever  to  be  sljocked  or  e\  i  n 
incommoded  i)y  the  n.ost  absolute'  incongruity.  They  can  t.il 
and  enjoj-  a  meal  while  their  eyes  are  resting  upon  objects  wlii.ii 
ought  to  be  most  offensive,  or  their  nostrils  are  filled  with  disgu?>t- 
ing  stenches.  They  can  spread  their  table  over  an  open  cesspool, 
and  there  enjoy  tlieir  most  desired  delicacies,  and  cm  sleep 
swcetl}'  with  the  iireezes  wafted  to  tlieir  couches  from  carrion. 
They  lay  the  coffins  containing  their  loved  and  honored  dead  by 
the  dust)-  roadway  in  an  open  field  browsed  over  by  buffalo,  or 
on  a  rocky  hill  to  swelter  uncovered  for  months,  and  pay  large 


.1 

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ii6 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


sums  for  a  spot  all  uncanny,  because  the  crafty  priest  has  made 
them  believe  it  to  be  a  lucky  spot.  It  is  straiiij;e  how  crafty  men 
become  wlio  assume  holy  robes,  and  how  the  believer  can  be  so 
blind  to  the  craft. 

One  sees  frequently  a  shop  beautifully  decorated  i\:th  screens, 
and  liangiuL,'  frie/es  of  finely  carved  woods  of  trees,  trailint,'  vines 
and  flowers  painted  in  imitation  of  nature,  with  pretty  birds 
of  gaudy  plumage  among  the  branches  ;  with  hangings  of  exciuis- 
ite  embroitlery  in  gold  and  brilliant  silks  ;  with  a  shrine  in  the 
rear  richly  carved  and  bright  in  lacquer,  gold,  and  enamel,  holding 
the  household  god,  clot!:ed  in  gold  and  garments  of  richest  dyes, 
while  a  part  ofthe  walls  are  bare  and  dingy  with  dirt  ;  the  shops 
opening  wide  upon  a  narrow,  dirty  street,  with  next  door  a  cook- 
shop  smoking,  or  a  fish-monger  wit'i  his  walls  hanging  in  nasty 
dried  fish.  The  rich  merchant  has  no  idea  of  the  incongruit)-  in 
his  surroundings,  or  that  his  lavish  expenilitures  are  thereby  made 
'v.\  bad  taste. 

A  gentleman  in  control  in  one  of  the  concessions — /.  r.,  locali- 
ties set  apart  for  foreigners,  and  entirely  governed  by  them  under 
laws  administered  by  the  respective  consuls — told  me  of  i  native 
who  had  fitted  up  very  elaborately  and  at  considerable  expense  a 
shop  next  to  a  corner,  useil  for  not  very  odorous  purposes.  As  a 
reward  to  the  native  for  fitting  up  his  shop  so  exi^cnsively,  he 
ordered  a  rail  put  across  the  corner  to  prevent  its  disagreeable  use. 
To  his  surprise  the  shopkeeper  complained  of  the  fence,  saying 
the  old  use  brought  people,  and  thereby  gave  him  customers. 
In  Hankow,  Kieu-Kiang,  and  Swatow  hogs  abound  in  the  streets. 
They  are  the  scavengers.  I  li.ive  seen  nun  in  shops  gathered 
around  their  little  tables,  taking  their  nooml.iy  meal,  while  a  sow 
and  pigs  were  walking  among  them  to  pick  up  any  thing  they 
might  throw  away.  In  one  of  these  places,  under  the  counter  of 
a  sort  of  notion  store,  I  saw  a  sow  with  a  large  litter  of  two-d.iy- 
old  pigs.  I^ig>i,  dogs,  and  chickens  are  thick  in  the  streets,  .uul 
have  free  ingress  into  the  sho|)s,  and  seem  to  cause  no  annoyance 
so  long  as  they  do  not  actually  get  in  tin.  way. 

Travellers  all  speak  and  write  of  the  filth  and  horribh  suiells  of 
Chinese  cities.  It  is  the  fashion  so  to  ilo,  and  as  tlu'  majority  of 
writers  simply  copy  what  some  one  else  lias  written,  only  guard- 
ing to  use  altered  modes  of  expression,  no  one  seems  to  take  the 
trouble  to  examine  for  himself.  Karly  in  this  century  a  crazy 
Englishman  sang  of  the  hundred  stenches  of  Cologne,  antl  every 
scribbler  since  has  to  write  of  them,  until  now  these  bad  odors 
number  a  thousand.  Thus  it  is  with  Chinese  cities.  Some  young 
Englishman  told  us  to  get  smelling-bt)ttles  betore  \  e  went  within 
the  walls  of  old  Shanghai.  Wc  spent  hours  in  the  old  city.  We 
walked  through  nearly  all  of  its  streets — not  carried  in  chairs,  as 
nearly  all  travellers  are.  We  did  not  find  sweet  otlors  very  abun- 
dant, except  when  passing  a  shop  where  fresh  wood  was  being 


' 


CHINESE  STREETS. 


117 


worked  into  coffins  or  pails  and  tubs ;  nor  did  we  find  any  thing 
so  offensive  as  to  make  our  walk  disagreeable — nothing  as  bad  as 
I  have  often  found  in  a  hotel  in  continental  Europe,  or  on  the  old, 
narrow  streets  of  London.  We  spoke  of  this  to  travellers,  who 
said  :  "  Yes,  old  Shanghai  has  learned  neatness  from  its  new 
European-governed  neighbor.  Wait  till  you  see  some  of  the 
other  cities,  especially  Canton,  then  you  will  catch  it."  We  went 
through  other  cities.  We  found  narrow  streets,  six  to  twelve  feet 
wide — eight  about  the  average.  Most  of  them  are  covered  with 
bamboo  matting,  and  all  are  densely  filled  with  people.  The 
shops  are  all  wide  open  to  the  streets, — no  doors, — each  shop 
rather  a  recess  running  back  from  the  street,  with  a  counter 
covering  a  third  of  the  store  front.  All  kinds  of  work  are  done 
in  open  view  :  shops  of  embroidery  and  silks  ;  shops  with  fish  of 
every  size  and  kind  ;  shops  of  all  sorts  of  groceries  in  baskets  on 
the  floors  and  counters  and  hanging  to  the  walls  ;  blacksmith 
shops,  in  which  haif-naked  men  sit  hammering  before  their  fur- 
naces ;  shops,  in  which  coffins  are  made ;  crowds  buying  and 
eating  in  and  before  the  cook-shops;  masses  going  to  and  fro, 
some  in  chairs  ;  men  with  heavy  loads  swinging  from  the  end  of 
a  strong  bamboo  balanced  on  the  shoulder ;  carriers  of  water  in 
pails,  now  and  then  a  splash  dropping  near  one's  feet  ;  carriers  of 
garden  vegetables;  carriers  of  night  soil  in  open  pails,  giving  one 
a  whiff  not  very  agreeable — these  latter,  however,  were  rare, 
except  in  the  tarly  morning  ;  pigs  demure  as  saints  grunting 
along  ;  often  the  streets  so  packed  that  all  had  to  keep  step  ; 
peddlers  crying  their  wares  ;  carriers  crying  for  pedestrians  to 
make  way,  and  all  making  way  good-humoredly ;  now  a  big 
porker  squealing,  as  he  swung  from  a  pole  carried  between  two 
men  ;  dogs  barking  at  us  foreigners,  and  then  yelping  as  a  native 
would  give  them  a  kick  for  their  lack  of  hospitality.  We  did  not 
find  the  air  as  sweet  as  if  we  were  in  the  broad  streets  of  the  con- 
cessions, but  we  found  nothing  more  than  momentarily  disagree- 
able ;  nothing  to  prevent  our  hearty  enjoyment  of  the  novelty  of 
our  surroundings.  We  tlicn  looked  forward  with  a  sort  of  long- 
ing to  get  into  filthy,  unfriendly  Canton.  There  we  were  to  get 
the  breadth  and  depth  of  Chinese  nastiness.  There  we  were  to  be 
constantly  insulted,  and  to  have  stones  or  clods  thrown  at  us. 

We  went  to  Canton.  We  spent  three  days  walking  through  its 
densely  packed,  narrow  streets.  We  found  it  to  be  the  cleanest 
city  we  hac'  seen  in  China.  We  told  our  guide  to  take  "is  to  the 
nasty  streets.  Wc  wanted  to  see  something  very  filthy.  Ah 
Cum  re])litd:  "  Helly  well,  I  take  you  where  poor  people  live." 
We  went.  We  walked  through  the  old  walled  city  of  1,000  years 
and  che  new  city  only  400  years  old.  Wc  walked  everywhere, 
amor  g  the  wealthiest  aivl  among  the  poorest ;  through  the  fine 
streets  lined  witli  handsonu;  shops,  and  through  those  occupied  by 
the  poverty-.-.'. rickcn  ;  for  three  days  we  walked  from  early  morning 


,1  .'■' 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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to  dark.  We  met  some  foreigners  in  chairs.  The  cunning  guide 
made  them  think  walking  nearly  impossible— thus  he,  too,  rides 
and  gets  a  commisssion  from  the  chair-owners.  Footsore,  on  .rhe 
evening  of  the  third  day,  we  went  on  the  steamer  for  Hong  Koi.g, 
without  having  found  any  thing  really  disagreeable,  and  without 
having  received  any  other  than  courteous  treatment  from  th° 
people,  except  from  some  idle  boys  at  Honan  temple,  who  take 
pleasure  in  calling  the  tourist  a  "  fanquoi  "  (a  foreign  devil),  and 
then  running,  just  as  a  lot  of  boys  with  us  would  call  a  Chinaman 
"  pig-tail."  Everywhere  we  showed  our  curiosity  by  looking  at  and 
examining  every  kind  of  industry.  Wc  did  this  in  each  city  we 
visited,  but  more  in  Canton  than  anywhere  else.  We  frequently 
stopped  men  at  their  work.  Wc  reall)-  incommoded  them,  until 
more  than  once  I  was  ashamed  of  mjself.  In  ever)-  instance  they 
seemed  amused  at  our  curiosity,  .uul,  I  tliought,  surprised  that 
we  should  evince  ignorance  at  their  modes,  which,  I  tloubt  not, 
the)- think  the  only  ones;  but  not  once  were  we  repulsed;  not 
once  was  the  slightest  unwillingness  shown  to  our  seeing. 

I  had  been  led  to  expect  possible  injury  in  going  through  these 
cities.  I  would  now  feel  no  hesitation  in  walking  alone  through 
an)'  Chinese  cit)-,  if  I  onl)-  knew  the  language  enough  to  make 
known  my  want's  and  explain  my  curiosit)-.  I  matle  "Ah  Cum" 
explain  to  them  the  difference  between  their  ways  of  doing  some 
things,  and  ours.  They  were  tjuite  curious  to  learn,  ar.l  seemed 
to  tiiink  me  l\-ing  when  1  lokl  tliem  the  quantit)-  we  sometimes 
turned  out.  We  went  into  the  big  mill  of  the  city.  There  were 
twelve  stones.  The  ujjper  stone  is  turned  upon  the  nether  b)'  a 
sweej)  drawn  by  a  bliiulfoided  ox  going  round  and  round  in  a 
narrow  circle,  his  track  not  more  than  four  feet  from  the  edge  of 
the  stone,  the  flour  ilropping  on  a  narrow  rim  around  it.  There 
arc  three  reku-s  of  oxen,  or  about  36  to  the  mill.  I  told  the 
owner  how  we  made  flour,  and  when  I  n.iincd  the  number  of 
barrels  turned  out  each  day  at  one  mill  at  Minneapolis,  I  regretted 
having  done  so.     He  set  me  down  as  a  fearful  liar. 

Cof^ns  are  a  decidedly  prominent  article  of  manufacture  in  all 
the  cities.  They  take  a  stick  of  timber,  round  in  its  natural 
form,  and.  say,  ten  inches  in  iliameter.  This  is  ripped  into  two 
pieces.  The  flat  surface  is  then  scooped  out,  th<'  piece  straight- 
edged,  and  a  shorter  section  of  a  like  stick  is  mortised  into  two 
ends.  A  bottom  and  a  top  are  then  scoo|)e(.l  from  sticks,  a  couple 
or  three  inches  wider  than  the  sides.  The  siiles,  ends,  aiul  bottom, 
are  then  put  together  with  a  cement  varnish.  When  finished, 
the  two  ends  show  that  the  sides,  top  and  bottom,  are  about 
three  inches  thick  in  the  centre,  and  rounded  to  an  inch  or  two  at 
the  edges.  The  whole  is  then  covered,  for  a  well-to-do  man,  with 
cloth  more  or  less  rich  ;  for  the  poor  man,  with  simple  cotton. 
Different  kinds  of  wood  are  used:  cheap  coffins  of  common  pine, 
costly  ones  from  wood  brought  from  far-off  in  the  mountains, 


y 


A  CANTON  SHOP. 


119 


I  \ 


% 


supposed  to  be  impervious  to  water.  Some  of  these  cost  $1,000. 
A  Chinaman  can  offer  no  such  evidence  of  piety  as  in  giving  his 
father  or  mother  a  costly  coflfin.  The  coffin,  with  some  quick- 
Hme  about  the  corpse,  is  then  not  necessarily  buried  beneath  the 
ground,  but  laid  on  top — I  suspect  sometimes  to  show  its  fine- 
ness. It  thus  lies  for  weeks,  months,  or  even  years.  It  costs 
something  to  erect  a  mound  over  it.  A  man  may  leave  money 
enough  for  a  coffin,  but  not  sufficient  to  put  him  well  under  the 
sod,  so  he  lies  on  the  surface  until  his  family  or  friends  can  afford 
to  put  him  under.  The  first  care  of  a  man  is  to  lay  by  enough 
for  a  decent  burial.  Mourning  by  widow  or  daughter  is  by 
wearing  white,  not  black  garments.  A  man  abstains  from  shav- 
ing his  head  a  certain  number  of  months,  more  or  less,  according 
as  he  mourns  for  father  or  mother.  I  could  not  Icarn  that  he 
mourns  ;it  all  for  a  wife.  He  abstains  in  mourning  from  sleeping 
o!i  a  bed,  and  wears  common  cotton  garments  for  a  certain  num- 
ber of  months,  and  denies  himself  certain  luxuries  of  diet.  A 
wealthy  man  we  met  aboard  the  steamer  from  Canton  was  very 
careful  to  tell  us  he  was  mourning  for  his  mother,  thereby  ex- 
plaining the  cheajMiess  of  his  apparel  and  the  lack  of  luxury  in 
his  supper.  To  the  initiated  his  dress  would  have  rendered  his 
apology  .unnecessary.     These  rules  are  very  exacting. 

I  will  endeavor  to  describe  a  Canton  shop  or  store.  It  is  a 
type  of  all  we  saw  in  otiier  cities,  only  that  in  the  north,  where 
it  is  colder,  the  ceiling  is  lower.  Such  house,  of  the  purely 
Chinese  sty)  ;,  not  those  occupied  by  them  in  cities  aiore  or  less 
I'Airopeanized,  is  from  10  to  l<S  feet  wide — a  few  ma_  be  wider — 
antl  from  30  to  40  feet  deep,  with  a  steep,  conimcin,  pitched 
roof,  the  eaves  to  the  street.  The  ridge  of  the  roof  is  from 
20  to  30  feet  high.  There  is  strictly  no  second  story.  The  light 
comes  ill  througli  windows  in  the  roof,  which  is  invariably,  in  the 
large  cities,  of  roumled  tile.  The  street,  where  there  are  fine  shops, 
is  more  or  less  covered  with  matting;  much  of  the  light,  there- 
fore, going  from  tiie  house  to  the  street,  instead  of  from  the  street 
to  the  house.  Around  and  within  tliis  front  house  is  generally 
a  gallery  used  for  goods.  The  gallery  answers  to  the  second 
.  '■ory  of  our  houses,  and  perhaps  is  so  considered.  Other  houses 
CO  ne  behind  the  front  one,  and  more  or  less  opening  into  it.  These 
all  iiave  galleries  wider  than  the  one  in  front,  and  thereby  much 
light  is  excluded  from  them.  The  sidewall  of  the  house  is  com- 
mon to  the  next  house,  or  stands  against  it.  Usually  the  wall  is 
a  party  wall  between  the  two.  Sometimes  these  houses  or,  rather, 
parts  of  houses  are  three  deep,  each  one  meeting  the  next  with 
its  eaves,  and  formiiig  a  trough  between  the  two.  The  conduc- 
tors of  the  inner  roofs  run  down  within  the  house.  The  ground- 
floor  is  of  brick  or  tile,  and  only  one  or  two  brirks  higher  than 
the  street.  Some  of  the  front  shops  are  very  richly  decorated 
with  brilliant  shrines  holding  the  household  god  or  gods,  and  all 


V  -I 


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1  ■   ')  II 

1  11 
''*  II 

i  )  Ijil 

'  !{ 1 

I 

Jm 

J 

120 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


A    , 


'i 


rather  tawdry,  somewhat  in  the  style  of  our  gaudy,  gilded  theaters- 
Being  lighted  from  above,  the  efTect  is  very  pretty.  All  houses, 
by  the  way,  in  Canton,  are  of  brick.  In  Swatow  the  majority 
seem  to  have  concrete  walls.  These  latter,  about  the  doorway, 
are  prettily  painted  al  fresco,  and  almost  immediately  after  the 
last  coat  of  mortar  is  put  on.  Some  painters  seemed  much 
pleased  at  our  watching  them  work,  and  evidently  put  in  their 
best  touches.  Some  of  the  scenes  painted  were  really  artistic — 
artistic  in  Chinese  style.  As  far  as  I  could  discover  the  dis- 
tances between  street  and  street  were  about  200  feet,  the 
houses,  or,  rather,  sets  of  houses  on  one  street  backing  against  the 
rear  wall  of  those  on  the  next  street.  The  dividing  walls  of  the 
two  or  three  houses  standing  one  behind  the  other  are  often  so 
opened  as  to  make  one  continuous  shop.  The  mill  I  mentioned 
ran  from  street  to  street,  but  was  under  20  feet  wide.  In  northern 
cities  I  noticed  no  lofty  stores  as  in  Canton.  There  the  first 
story  was  rarely  over  10  to  15  feet  high,  and  usually  when 
there  was  as  much  as  15  feet  there  were  two  real  stories. 

Many  modes  of  work  were  to  me  very  novel.  Razors  and  fine 
knives  are  all  cut  by  hand  with  a  hand  chisel.  A  fine  stone  lies 
before  the  mechanic,  and  every  few  minutes  the  cutler  sharpens 
his  chisel.  Ordinary  cuttin;^  implements  are  only  hammered  out. 
When  filing  any  thing  to  a  smooth  and  even  surface,  the  file  is 
worked  in  one  hand  and  the  thing  filed  is  held  in  the  other,  in- 
stead of  being  laid  on  a  bench.  The  file  has  at  the  small  end  a 
wooden  continuation,  which  runs  back  and  forth  in  a  ring, 
thereby  keeping  it  level  and  regular  in  its  motions.  All  timber 
is  sewed  into  boards  by  hand  in  the  shop  using  the  boards. 
There  are  evidently  no  saw-mills.  I  could  hear  of  no  great  rice 
mills.  The  rice  is  hulled  by  being  placed  in  a  mortar  and  beaten 
by  a  maul  at  the  end  of  a  lever,  lifted  by  a  man  stepping  upon 
the  short  end,  and  thus  lifting  the  maul,  which  then  falls  when  he 
steps  off  and  beats  out  the  rice  by  its  own  weight.  It  is  a  lively 
sight  to  see  double  rows  of  these  pounders,  10,  20,  and  at  one 
place  40  or  50,  all  worked  by  athletic  naked  men,  one  to  each 
mortar,  usually  moving  so  that  a  given  number  of  mauls  would 
fall  at  a  time,  thereby  thumping  in  regular  musical  intervals. 

The  manner  of  mangling  and  glazing  cotton  nankin  is  very 
droll.  The  stuff,  after  coming  from  the  dye-vat  and  being  dried, 
is  slightly  dampened  by  a  man  spewing  upon  it  from  his  mouth 
a  delicate  spray  of  water.  I  could  not  make  one  of  them  smile 
enough  to  loose  his  pucker.  He  would  send  the  spray  out  as 
fine,  almost,  as  the  particles  of  fog,  and  as  evenly  over  the  goods 
as  one  could  conceive,  folding  the  stuff  as  he  sprayed  it.  He 
would  then  laugh  as  much  as  we.  The  goods  is  then  laid  before 
a  man  who,  with  his  feet,  "manipulates"  (excuse  the  bull)  a 
stone,  weighing  several  hundred  pounds,  three  or  four  feet 
long,  two  feet  deep,  and  ten  inches  thick,  with  a  convex  curve  on 


DOGS  AND  CATS  AS  FOOD. 


[21 


the  base,  about  two  feet  long.  The  top  of  the  stone  is  scooped 
out  and  the  ends  cut  down  to  take  off  weight.  The  manipulator 
rolls  some  of  the  stuff  around  a  wooden  roller,  three  inches  in 
diameter,  and  places  it  in  a  smooth  wooden  trough,  hollowed  so 
as  to  have  a  concave,  a  yard  wide.  By  a  quick  motion  of  the  foot 
the  stone  is  thrown  on  the  top  of  the  roller,  and  rapidly  worked 
back  and  forth,  rolling  the  roller  in  the  trough,  the  man  all  the 
while,  as  docs  the  rice-mauler,  sustaining  himself  by  a  sort  of 
trapeze  bar  above.  In  an  incredibly  short  time,  by  a  motion  of 
his  feet  he  tips  off  the  stone,  and  the  stuff  is  drawn  off  perfectly 
ironed  and  glazed.  When  one  of  our  fair  ladies  touches  to  her 
cheek  a  beautiful  piece  of  glazed  nankin,  let  her  remember  the 
delicate  spray  which  dampened  it  for  mangling. 

The  process  of  drilling  holes  through  pearls  and  small  coral 
beads  is  pretty.  The  pearl  or  bead  is  dropped  into  a  little  pit 
barely  large  enough  to  hold  it.  Then,  with  a  drill  as  fine  as 
a  cambric  needle,  worked  by  a  silk  thread  on  a  short  bow,  the 
hole  is  cut  through  in  less  than  a  minute.  Beads  are  counted  by 
being  passed  over  a  sort  of  wooden  platter  with  i,ooo  holes  just 
large  enough  to  catch  them  ;  each  hole  catches  one,  the  remainder 
are  rolled  off,  and  if  a  hole  or  a  few  holes  are  discovered  to  be 
empty,  enough  arc  counted  to  supply  the  deficiency,  and  the 
whole  is  then  tipped  into  a  box.  A  thousand  are  thus  counted 
in  a  half  minute  or  so.  VV^ood  and  ivory  carving  were  also  in- 
teresting features  of  Canton,  and  I  was  sorely  tempted  to  invest, 
but  wc  were  yet  far  from  half-way  around  the  world,  and  I  had  to 
forego. 

Cook-shops  abound  in  all  Chinese  cities,  and  hanging  in  and 
before  them  were  many  delicacies  tempting  to  the  Chinese  palate : 
whole-roasted  pigs,  fowl,  hares,  game,  etc.  The  pig's  jowl  is 
cleaved  vertically,  and  then  the  whole  animal  is  spread  so  as  to 
exhibit  the  porker  in  his  entirety — that,  too,  when  weighing  lOO 
and  more  pounds.  Ducks  and  game  have  the  head  and  feet,  and 
sometimes  the  tail-feathers  or  hair  are  stuck  in  or  pulled  over  the 
tail-bone.  In  the  cat  and  dog  cook-shops  the  claws  and  feet  are 
all  left  on.  By  the  way,  a  fat  young  puppy  makes  a  beautiful 
roast.  The  cat  looks  like  a  huge  squirrel.  Tl.cse  are  only  eaten 
in  Canton,  as  far  as  I  could  learn,  and  I  am  led  to  believe  it  true ; 
for  ill  every  other  city  the  dogs  were  a  nuisance  and  have  a  mortal 
hatred  of  a  foreigner.  They  would  discover  us  by  scent  before 
we  could  be  seen,  and  would  commence  barking  furiously  and 
seemed  desirous  of  testing  our  flavor.  But,  like  all  wolf-dogs, 
they  are  great  cowards,  and  nearly  all  Chinese  dogs  have  the 
Siberian  or  coyote  characteristics.  In  Canton  we  were  barked  at 
by  only  one  dog,  and  he  got  a  furious  kick  from  a  native.  I 
have  a  suspicion  that  the  curs  know  they  are  good  for  the  dish 
as  well  as  for  the  bark,  and  are  very  well  behaved.  I  could  meet 
no  Chinaman  who  confessed  to  eating  cats  and  dogs.     All  said 


!  \  IF 


■  \ 

■  ( 

M 


'i ; 


Nt 


k 


S 


\m 


)  ..  ■  ■  i 


;  1 


t 


122 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\:l 


!»(' 


"  ili :. 


they  were  only  cooly  food,  but  I  found  they  cost  more  than  that 
of  a  hke  quantity  of  pork.  I  therefore  have  a  suspicion  that 
others  eat  them,  but  on  the  sly,  and  why  not?  It  is  not  the 
mangv  cur  and  starveling  cat  that  are  eaten.  They  are  fattened  be- 
fore killing,  and  all  we  saw  roasted  were  appetizing  in  appearance. 
They  are  only  offered  at  special  markets,  and  prepared  at  special 
cook-shcps.  At  one  of  these  I  saw  a  number  of  coolies  eating 
from  a  large  bowl  of  stew.  I  suspected  the  leaner  curs  and  purr- 
ers  were  stewed,  and  not  roasted,  and  were  cheap. 

About  nine  in  the  morning,  and  again  about  one  I'.M.,  the  people 
seemed  to  be  eating  their  meals.  In  all  shops  tiie  employees  eat 
in  the  place;  the  meal  furnished,  we  were  informed,  by  the  master. 
Each  man  had  his  small  bowl,  which  he  filled  from  the  rice-tub, 
ami  then,  each  would,  with  his  chop-sticks,  pick  out  pieces  of 
fisii.  ticsh.  or  vegetables,  from  a  large  bowl  of  stew  common  to 
them  all,  and  around  which  they  ail  squatted.  The  dexterity 
with  which  they  can  ]Mck  uj)  a  thing,  even  a  grain  of  rice,  with 
the  chop-sticks  is  very  remarkable.  They  can  use  them  much 
more  dcftlj-  than  we  can  the  fork.  The  rice  from  the  small  bowl 
is  thrown  by  a  sort  of  jerky  motion  into  the  mouth,  to  which  the 
bowl  is  brought.  Tiiey  eat  a  kind  of  macaroni,  or  rather  vermi- 
celli, which  seemed  absolutely  to  run  into  the  mouth  as  if  it  were 
alive,  and  one  piece  following  anotiier  so  continuouhly  as  to  seem 
a  single  long  string.  In  eating,  the  bowl  is  lifted  close  to  the 
mouth.     This  is  done  among  all  chop-stick  people. 

Embroidery  is  done  by  men  rather  more  than  by  women,  the 
soft  Chinese  liand  being  admirably  fitteti  for  delicate  work.  The 
hand  of  every  Chinaman,  not  absolutely  occupied  in  very  hard 
labor,  is  as  soft  as  a  new  kid  glove.  The  designer  draws  off  the 
figures  with  a  sort  of  pencil,  without  any  model,  and  apparently 
without  any  preconceived  design.  The  thing  comes  out,  however, 
curiously  harmonious.  I  admit  it  to  be  purely  Chinese  harmony. 
Chin-aware  is  painted  in  the  same  way.  Each  piece  is  done 
separately,  and  rapidl)'.  yet  a  man  will  design  and  p.iint  ilozens 
of  pieces  all  alike,  yet  each  in  some  small  detail  differing  from 
the  other.  If  you  will  examine  any  of  your  real  china-ware  you 
will  notice  this  peculiarity.  The  same  will  be  observed  in  their 
embroidery.  The  white  crape  shawls  were  very  rich  ;uul  artistic, 
.ind  were  a  sore  temptation  to  me,  and  the  paintings  on  rice- 
paper  are  grotesque,  but  very  pretty  and  of  exquisite  coloring. 

\Ve  visited  the  place  of  execution.  There  was  one  head  in  a 
basket,  cut  off  some  weeks  before,  and  around  were  many  copper 
pots,  nearly  three  feet  in  diameter,  filled  with  heads,  and  cemented 
down.  The  body  is  buried,  but  the  state  holds  on  to  the  head. 
For  ten  cents  the  executioner  showed  the  sword,  and  solemnly 
went  through  the  motions  of  taking  off  a  caput.  He  said  he  had 
cut  off  a  good  many  hundreds,  but  admitted  he  would  have 
to  strike  hard  to  sever  my  neck  with  a  single  blow,  but  would  try 


TEMPLES  AND  PAGODAS. 


"3 


it  if  desired,  and  looked  as  if  he  would  do  it  most  good-naturedly ; 
that  the  Chinese  neck  was  smaller,  and  he  rarely  had  to  strike 
twice.  Executioners  have  much  practice.  Six  thousand  heads 
are  annually  taken  off  in  China.  The  sword  was  abi>ut  two  feet 
lon^  in  blade,  and  not  over  two  or  two  and  one  half  inches  wide. 
By  tlio  way,  these  people  have  very  small  necks.  It  is  a  little 
singular  that  the  execution  {ground  is  used  for  drying  earthen- 
ware for  the  kiln.  When  did  this  idea  commence?  Putter's  Field 
is  .ilmost  synonymous  with  the  burial-place  of  the  destitute. 

The  temples  of  China  arc  far  from  interesting,  aiul  _L;ieatly 
inferior  to  those  of  Japan.  Indeed,  except  to  note  the  lack  of 
interest,  they  are  not  worth  visiting.  Tiie  three  great  temples  of 
Caiitoti  are  those  of  llonan,  a  large  Huddhist  temple,  with  its 
many  acres  of  ground,  and  its  trees  trained  to  represent  men,  ani- 
mals, aiul  birds,  its  great  fat,  sacred  pigs,  and  the  three  large 
statues  of  Huddha  ;  the  temple  of  Five  I  kindred  Genii,  with  500 
gilded,  wooden,  or  clay  figures,  none  of  them  iiaving  any  preten- 
sions to  artistic  merit;  and  the  temple  of  the  Five  (ienii  :  these 
are  the  only  ones  we  have  seen  at  all  worthy  of  notice. 

Two  guild  halls,  one  at  Hankow  and  one  at  Canton,  are  tie- 
serving  of  close  attention  as  examples  of  rich,  llorid  Chinese 
arcliitecture.  The  tiling  of  the  roof,  the  elaborate  wood-carving, 
the  rich  shrines,  and  gold-carved  gods  at  Hankow  are  gorgeous. 
IiuUed,  it  would  seem  the  design  was  to  see  how  much  gilt  and 
c.irving  could  be  gottin  into  gi\'en  spaces.  The  hail  at  I'anton, 
though  ver)-  line,  is  much  less  elaborate  than  the  other.  They 
are  both  a  s])ecies  of  merchant  boards  of  trade,  where  heavy 
native  transactions  are  completed  Fach  has  several  halls,  several 
small  temples  in  honor  of  diffeient  gods,  theatres,  bancpieting 
halls,  aiul  gardens,  and  cover  largo  areas  of  grouiul.  Great  trans- 
actions, from  what  1  could  learn,  are  closed  antl  cemented  with  a 
feast. 

The  pagodas  are  more  attractive  than  the  temples.  Some  are 
of  great  antiquity,  liating  far  back  in  the  early  centuries  of  our 
era.  Some  are  more  or  less  in  decay,  shrubs  and  small  trees 
growing  on  the  projections  of  the  several  stories  and  on  the  sum- 
mits. I'"ive  and  seven  stories  are  the  usual  heights  of  those  on  the 
Yang-tse  :  nine  of  those  on  the  Pearl  River  anil  in  Canton.  Some 
of  these  latter  are  in  good  restoration,  and  are  very  pretty  land- 
marks, aiul  as  such  they  are  used  by  the  navigators  on  all  the 
rivers.  ,\s  far  as  we  coulil  learn  they  seem  to  have  been  erected 
not  in  connection  with  any  temples,  or  in  any  way  as  places 
of  worship,  but  as  a  sort  of  propitiatory  offering  to  the  gods,  for 
the  purpose  of  bringing  good-luck  to  the  builder  or  builders,  or  to 
the  locality.  The  whole  theory  of  Chinese  worship  seems  to  be 
based  upon  the  idea  that  the  gods  are  a  species  of  devils,  ready 
and  rather  willing  to  work  harm  to  mortals,  and,  therefore,  to  be 
constantly  propitiated  and  appeased.      The  one  great  god  whom 


r:. 


m 


\  \\} 


;l;':iH;iy 


( I 


i.l 


124 


/t  HACK  IVITJI  THE  SUN. 


!'!i 


Buddha  represents  is  a  good  god,  and  docs  all  things  well.  A 
man's  good  ancestors  are  in  heaven  in  the  presence  of  the  one 
good  god  or  gods.  To  them,  and  through  them  to  him,  thanks 
are  rendered  for  blessings  on  earth.  No  prayers  arc  offered  for 
the  purpose  of  affecting  in  any  way  the  future  state  of  the 
petitioner.  Temporal  blessings  alone  arc  sought.  The  future  is 
fixed  and  determined,  in  accordance  with  his  good  or  bad  deeds 
on  earth.  Hut  the  devilish  gods  are  constantly  meddling  with 
men's  affairs,  ami  putting  their  fingers  into  men's  pies.  To  pre- 
vent such  interference  being  harmful,  offering-,  are  made.  There 
are  some  gods  who  now  and  then  do  good  and  kindly  acts  toward 
men.  These  have  rich  promises  and  sometimes  valuable  presents 
ofTcred  to  fix  their  kindly  interference. 

One  sees  frequently  a  small-footed  wife — the  first  and  real  wife 
— who  has  not  been  able  to  hold  the  affections  of  her  husband, 
who  is  spending  too  much  of  his  time  with  one  of  his  big-footed, 
and,  therefore,  more  active,  wives ;  one  sees  this  neglected  wife 
clap  her  hands  to  the  god  of  woman,  and  give  him  a  few  "  cash," 
while  she  prays  him  to  bless  her  by  making  her  the  mother  of  a 
boy,  and  thereby  acceptable  to  her  liege  lord. 

By  the  way,  a  wealthy  Chinese  merchant  told  me  that  the  rea- 
son he  married  a  small-foot  was  because  she  was  not  able  to  get 
into  harm,  but  a  big-footed  woman  could  get  about  too  easily,  and 
could  get  into  mischief ;  that  his  main  wife  lived  in  Canton — he 
would  not  take  her  where  Europeans  lived  ;  that  his  second  and 
third  wives  lived  with  him  in  Hong  Kong.  He  went  twice  a 
moon  to  Canton  to  see  his  first  wife.  The  first  wife  is  the  lawful 
one,  and  cannot  be  put  away  at  will,  or  if  so  must  be  well  main- 
tained. The  other  wives  arc  little  more  than  slaves,  and  can  be 
put  away  at  pleasure.  But  he  said  public  opinion  protected  them, 
and  no  man  dared  send  off  one  of  his  wives  after  she  had  borne 
him  a  child  without  making  ample  provision  for  her  support,  and 
that  custom  bound  a  Chinaman  even  more  than  law  did.  That  if 
he  himself  were  to  go  abroad  with  his  wife  he  would  be  willing  and 
glad  to  introduce  her  to  intelligent  foreigners,  but  that  here 
in  China  custom  would  not  permit  him  to  let  any  man,  other  than 
a  father  or  a  brother,  visit  his  wife.  "  The  fact  is,"  he  finally  said, 
"  the  Chinaman  too  fool  jealous.  When  he  lose  his  fool  jealous, 
he  come  as  good  man  as  Englishman  or  Melican  man." 

On  the  15th,  in  Canton,  \vc  found  ourselves  in  a  densely  p.ickcd 
street.  We  could  scarcely  get  along.  A  procession  was  moving, 
in  honor  of  the  "  God  of  Water,"  I  think.  Well-dressed  mer- 
chants, in  a  sort  of  guild  uniform,  were  marching  behind  bands  of 
music,  followed  by  little  boys,  dressed  in  cxcjuisitc  embroidery,  on 
ponies,  and  girls  beautifully  dressed,  on  chairs  all  covered  with 
flowers ;  some  in  studied  positions,  but  sustained  by  hidden 
frames  so  adjusted  as  to  prevent  weariness.  These  were  followed 
by  little  pagodas  and  temples  of  lacquer  and  kingfisher  enamel. 


CATHEDRAL  OF  CANTON. 


Its 


Successions  of  this  sort  of  tiling  followed  each  other  for  nearly  an 
hour.  All  was  {^ood-liumor  and  j;ood  order.  Ik-fore  the  jjroces- 
sion  came  up  tlie  street  was  packed,  yet,  by  some  sort  of  Chinese 
juj^glery,  the  crowd  j.immed  itself  to  the  sides  so  that  there  was 
room  for  themovin}^  line.  We  ^'<it  into  a  pretty  store,  and  to  our 
amazement  the  owner  had  stools  br()uj;ht  for  us  to  stand  on,  so 
we  could  look  over  the  heads  of  ethers,  and  even  made  some  men 
move  to  one  side  who  were  in  front  of  us.  And  yet  wc  came  to 
tlie  "City  of  Rams"  e.\p(;ctin^  to  be  insulted,  and  probably 
injured.  I'robably  the  traveller  imaj;ines  much,  or  brings  upon 
himself  much,  of  that  wiiich  he  is  in  the  habit  of  calling  Chinese 
hostility.  The  real  fact  is,  the  Chinese  very  much  fear  foreigners, 
antl  stand  in  .iwe  of  them.  They  will  rarely  fail  to  lower  the  eye 
and  turn  away  when  a  Kuropean  or  ^Xmerican  looks  upon  them 
with  an  earnest  eye. 

We  had  quite  a  h>ng  conversation  with  the  bishop  of  Canton, 
who  received  and  treateil  us  with  great  kiiulness,  for  which 
we  are  under  obligations  to  his  Grace,  Archbishop  Feehan, 
whose  Latin  letter  we  carrj-  with  us  when  calling  upon  any  of 
the  Catholic  hierarch}-.  The  good  bishop  has  been  in  this 
country  some  25  j'ears,  and  speaks  only  I""rench  and  Chinese. 
He  was  gri-atly  i)leased  when  informed  of  the  kind  treatment 
we  had  received  in  his  city,  and  agreed  with  us  thoroughly 
that  much  of  the  reported  hostility  of  the  Chinese  was  imagi- 
nary, or  somewhat  brought  on  by  the  mistakes  of  the  tourists. 
He  said  there  was  a  very  bitter  feeling  toward  the  French 
after  their  late  war  with  the  Chinese,  but  he  could  sec  that  it 
was  growing  less  year  by  year.  In  his  district  he  has  in  his 
church  about  30,000  members.  They  had  hard  and  slow  work 
to  win  these  people  from  their  superstitions.  I  suggested  that 
the  bishops  of  some  1 800  years  ago  would  have  tiiought  his 
success  great,  and  that  he  had  cause  for  hope.  His  face  bright- 
ened up  as  he  replied  :  "////,  oni ;  'otijours  I' ispcrance ;  I' cspcrancc 
est  toujoiirs  Ic  noire."  The  bishop  wears  a  pig-tail  and  looks  a 
Chinaman.  The  church  building,  whose  foundation  was  laid 
some  25  years  ago,  has  now  a  complete  exterior,  and  is  being 
beautifully  finished  within.  It  is  all  of  cut  stone — no  wood  or 
plaster.  It  has  two  lofty  towers,  and  is  excelled  in  architec- 
tural purity  by  few  such  buildings  in  Europe.  There  are  beau- 
tiful marble  altars  and  rich  stained-glass  windows.  They  arc 
earnest  and  wise,  these  French  priests.  The  Orientals  cannot 
comprehend  pure  simplicity.  They  must  be  appealed  to  through 
their  admiration  and  their  awe  for  the  grand.  This  magnifi- 
cent church  towering  far  above  every  thing  else  except  a  few 
pagodas  i..  the  "City  of  the  Rams,"  seen  for  many  miles  up 
anci  down  the  great  river,  will  do  a  vast  deal  to  win  the  Celestials 
from  their  belief  in  the  five  genii,  and  the  supposed  petrified 
rams'  heads  which  lie  before  them. 


ill 


126 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


■■y.. 


l*t 


'iff 


\    A   > 


The  legend  is  that  ages  ago  five  genii  were  flying  over  the 
land,  which  was  greatly  distressed  by  a  famine.  They  kindly 
alighted,  together  with  five  rams  of  plenty.     Monster  footprints 

/.  c.  old-time  water-worn  marks — several  feet  long  arc  shown  in 

their  temple  garden,  wiicrc  they  first  touched  earth,  and  five 
water-worn  stones,  resembling  rams'  heads,  are  in  front  of  their 
statues.  A  little  kindly  treatment  by  the  gray  head  of  our  party 
to  a  prettily  dressc<l  child  brought  upon  us  the  bright  smiles 
and  kindly  words  from  his  Mantu  mother — the  wife,  probably, 
of  some  higii  ofificial  of  the  quarter,  and  h'^re  that  day  for 
worship. 

Before  forgetting  what  I  said  of  the  beneficial  effect  of  pomp 
on  these  ptioplc  in  religious  matters,  I  will  say  something  of  the 
misplaced  economy  of  our  government  in  all  the  East — that  is,  the 
niL'gardly  manner  in  which  our  consuls  are  forced  to  live  wlu'n 
comnared  to  that  of  other  western  powers.  I  think  every  otiuT 
government  has  its  fixeil  consular  residence,  always  h.indsome 
buildings,  with  fine  grounds.  These  impress  tiic  people,  and 
win  respect  from  men  who  value  an  ofificial  in  proportion  to  the 
style  in  which  he  moves.  A  mandarin  or  magistrate  gors  to  ami 
from  the  courts  in  a  procession  of  officials,  witii  wheezing  fifes, 
and  beating  gongs,  and  bamiers  flying.  This  is  approved  of  bv 
all  the  n.itives,  because  it  impresses  all  with  the  power  surround- 
ing the  officials.  A  magistr.ite  hearing  ;i  criminal  cause  has  his 
personal  attendants  about  him.  and  every  few  moments  his  ,/i[)e- 
bearer  hands  him  the  pipe,  from  which  he  takes  a  few  wiiiffs,  to 
help  preserve  his  calm  sense  of  ju.'^ice.  There  is  absolutels'  no 
caste  in  China,  but  the  official  moves  .md  acts  ever  in  great  state. 
Wise  men  ha\e  found  these  thing^^  benet'ici.il. 

America  sends  consuls  out  liere  clothed  with  judicial  powers. 
They  settle  all  difficnlties  and  all  troubles  involving  the  property, 
life,  .md  libert\'  of  tlu'ir  countn^men.  They  represent  the  in.iji'sty 
of  our  government.  They  take  evidence  in\-()lving  iife  .md 
property  and  give  decisions,  and  yet  one  we  ini-t  lives  in  a  re- 
spectable building  because  a  mit-^ionarj'  hajjpened  to  desire  a  \'isit 
home,  and  next  spring  I  fear  he  will  h.ive  to  roll  up  his  bed  .imi 
look  out  for  a  bunk  to  lay  his  head  on.  He  may  or  he  mav  not 
get  a  fitting  house,  but  even  if  ht-  does  he  loses,  by  his  forced 
moving,  prestige  with  tlu  p( cplr  .iround  him.  This  thing  has 
been  thrown  up  t<i  ii^  both  ui  Jajjan  and  China  b\-  the  fiw  natives 
with  whom  we  talked.  If  a  thing  is  worth  doing,  it  is  worth 
doing  rightlw  Our  government  i'^  .i  niight>-  one.  its  nav)-  is 
the  laughing-stock  of  the  world.  That  one  can  stanti  ;  we  are  a 
peace-seeking  people.  Our  institutions  do  not  require  ships  to 
send  around  the  world  for  the  lunketing  of  admirals  and  commo- 
dores and  their  wives  and  daught(M-s.  Hut  ourmercha"'  >m\  our 
business  men  visit  .ill  lands.  When  they  come  to  the  East  let 
them    find    ministers  and   con  ul>   who   can   tr\    their   causes  in 


LIFE  ON  CANTON  BOA  TS. 


laj 


m 


1 

II 

'  n 

V 

V  Hf 

buildings  which  belong  to  our  government,  and  thereby  help  to 
make  the  people  we  may  be  forced  to  contend  with  feel  a  respect 
for  the  government  whose  flag  floats  over  us.  Our  Congressmen 
do  not  take  their  seats  for  13  months  after  being  elected.  It 
would  be  a  good  idea  to  force  each  one  of  them  to  spend  a 
good  part  of  the  time  in  going  around  the  world,  thereby  learn- 
ing i'low  to  legislate  for  the  nation,  instead  of  running  back  and 
forth  to  Washington  to  get  some  i)altry  position  for  workers  at 
tlic  polls. 

One  of  the  peculiar  things  which  strikes  the  traveller  at  Can- 
toil  is  its  vast  floating  population,  and  its  boats,  manned  by 
women.  It  is  said  there  are  over  8o,cxx)  of  the  i ,6cxD,cxx)  Can- 
tonese  who  live  and  die  in  little  boats  on  the  river.  These  are 
of  three  sizes.  The  largest  or  regular  marine  boat  is  25  to  40 
feet  long,  with  a  beam  of  10  to  15  feet.  Some  of  them  have  a 
sort  of  second  story.  They  traffic,  carrying  freight  and  passen- 
gers. Their  owners  nev^T  go  off  of  them.  At  night  these  lie 
sitlr  by  side,  10  to  20  deep,  with  another  row  meeting  their  bows, 
and  so  on  for  luunlreds  of  yards.  Soinc  of  them  are  beautifully 
decorateil  witliin,  not  outside — no  Chinese  boat  ever  is,  or  even 
painted — and  are  cailetl  flower-boats.  Opposite  them  are  those 
termed  the  loom-bo.its.  Here  the  revelry  of  Canton  is  carried 
on.  .Susan,  our  briglit  sampan  girl,  guided  us  from  one  boat  to 
another,  now  and  then  stretching  out  her  tiny  hand  to  assist  us 
in  luir  movements.  A  gentleman  wishes  to  entertain  some 
friends,  lie  hires  a  flower-hoat  forllie  evening,  tlie  hire  securing 
the  sujiper  ami  wines,  lie  then  hires  one,  two,  three,  or  more 
singing-  and  d.incing-girls  — a  sort  of  odalis(|ues  ; — each  guest 
can  brini,  a  girl  if  he  wishes.  Here  they  meet  to  make  a  night 
of  it,  e.iting  and  drinking  and  gambling,  the  girls  singing,  play- 
ing, or  dancing  for  tiieir  amusement.  The  boats  arc  all  open  in 
front,  like  the  stores,  and  hundreds  of  idlers  pass  to  and  fro  to 
see  the  ri'velKM^s.  This  llu\'  seem  to  relish.  \\'e  were  beckoned 
to  enter  anil  p.irtake.  hut  with  .1  motion  of  thanks  declined.  This 
is  kept  uj)  from  live  in  the  afternoon  to  one,  two,  or  three  at  night. 
Although  there  arc  huiulreds  of  these  jileasurt^-boats,  and  perhaps 
thous.mds  of  the  singing  girls,  \et  the  population  of  the  city  is  so 
great  that  this  thing  goes  on  night  after  night  throughout  the 
year,  and  from  year  to  year.  The  water  makes  the  air  cool,  and 
these  flower-boats  t.ike  the  place  of  beer-gardens  in  (iermany, 
cafes  in  France,  and  tea-houses  in  Ja{)an  and  in  other  cities  of 
China.  The  s,Mrls  an'  of  the  lower  classes,  belong  to  the  master 
or  mistress  of  the  house-boats,  and  arc  hired  at  one  dollar  an 
evening.  They  are  allowed  to  drink,  but  not  to  eat.  I  was  told 
tliat  if  this  were  permitted  their  coarst  manners  would  crop 
ou'.  in  eating,  but  that  they  (piickly  learn  how  to  drink  like 
ladies. 

The  sampans  are  much  smaller  boats,  about  13  to  20  feet  long, 


11  IKK     'I 


V^ 


128 


//  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


!  1  ' 


i|,'' 


\{i- 


l.i 


with  a  beam  of  five  to  eight  feet.  In  tliis  little  affair  a  woman 
will  live  with  two  or  thrcc'chiklrcn.  If  she  has  no  daughter  old 
enough,  she  manages  to  buy  a  girl  grown  or  nearly  grown.  These 
two  manage  tiie  boat,  of  which  there  are  thousands.  They  do  all 
the  light  river  carrying,  and  it  is  very  great.  Samjjan  women  will 
rush  iii)on  a  steamer,  seize  one's  valise  or  even  trunk,  and  carry  it 
down  a  gangway  with  the  strength  of  a  man  and  with  more 
a"iiity.  Tlu'y  will  give  one  a  hand  to  steady  him,  and,  in  fact, 
protect  and  assist  a  strong  man  as  he  at  home  has  been  accus- 
tomed to  assist  women. 

Our  hotel  was  in  Honan,  an  island  suburb  acro-s  the  ri\er  from 
the  main  city  of  Canton.  Susan,  lithe,  sh.arp.  <]uicl<-wittcd  .Susan, 
owned  two  boats,  and  had  tiiree  pretty  d.uighters,  ail  nearly  .is 
old  as  herself,  and  two  little  children.  She  or  they  were  always 
on  hand  to  scull  us  from  the  hotel  to  the  city,  a  few  hundred 
yards  across.  And  how  they  could  scull.  In  and  out,  uiuler  the 
bows  of  junks,  through  crowds  of  big  boats  or  little  sampans, 
rowing  like  men.  climbing  like  monkeys.  Our  Susans  were  all 
pretty  little  women,  beautifully  formed,  with  tiny  h.mds.  if  li.uii  : 
and  such  feet  antl  ankles  I  It  is  impossible  to  describe  them. 
The  reader  can  imagine  them,  and  can't  go  amiss,  so  perfect  were 
they— real  models  in  nut-l)rown.  And  Susan  was  ubiquitous. 
It  m.ittered  not  where  we  woukl  reach  the  river  after  a  walk, 
Susan  was  sure  to  be  there  to  scull  us  over,  to  t.'kc  our  ten  cents, 
;iiul  to  crack  a  joke  in  ])igeon  I'jiglish-  -;i  jt)ke  not  always  the 
most  delicate  ;  for  none  of  them  are  prudes.  We  wondered  how 
she  with  only  two  boats  could  be  e\ery where  at  once.  On  our 
last  day  we  were  rowing  down  the  river  when  a  woman's  voice 
from  another  sampan  rang  in  m\'  ears.  We  looked,  and  '  >,  it  was 
our  real  Susan  :  ami  jet  Susan  was  rowing  us.  We  ..lien  dis- 
covered that  all  these  litile  bo.it-womeii — that  is.  the  \-oung  ones, 
had  beautiful  forms  .iiul  jierfect  feet  and  ankles.  The  boys  on 
taking  a  boat  never  saw  above  the  ankle,  and  in  th.it  way  were 
joking  wiMi  a  bright-eyed  wom.m  supposed  to  be  Sus.in.  and 
had  not  tiiscoveretl  we  ilid  not  ha\e  oi/r  Susan,  whose  , inkles 
were  pretty,  but  whose  eyes  squinted  badly.  It  is  truly  won- 
derful tile  amount  of  work  these  little  UDinen  can  do.  Often 
on("  will  be  seen  sculling  a  boat  with  a  baby  strapped  to  her 
back.  Imleed,  nearly  half  of  the  boats  had  l>abies,  and  one  w.ls 
generally  fastened  to  one  of  the  women's  shoulders. 

The  Chinese  are  fearful  gamesters,  and  one  never  goes  far 
tii.'t  he  does  not  see  ;i  game  going  on — a  sort  of  f.iro—  coolies 
gambling  on  the  grcmd  at  the  corners  of  streets,  workmen  gam- 
bling in  shops,  and,  what  was  queerest  of  all,  we  rarely  pa.sscd  a 
temple  without  seeing  a  game  in  progress  on  the  steps  or  the  por- 
tico. The  stakes  are  very  small  all  in  "cash,"  which  is  the  tenth 
part  of  a  cent.  These  are  the  money  of  the  people,  anil  some  of 
the  lieaviest  loads  carried  by  the  porters  are  the  baskets  of  cash 


APPROACHJNG  BAXGKOK. 


129 

Each 


transported  to  close  purchases,  I,cxx3  of  them  to  a  dollar 
cash  weighs  about  as  much  as  an  American  cent. 

This  is  the  25th  ;  we  will  be  at  the  bar  in  the  Menam  River  to- 
night. To-morrow  we  will  be  in  liangkok,  and  fear  we  will  swel- 
ter in  the  heat.  Out  here,  over  a  deep  blue  sea,  the  thermometer 
is  higli  in  the  8o's.  The  boys  are  in  their  shirt-sleeves  and  I  am 
uncomfortably  warm  in  an  alpaca. 


■4 

1 

H 

> 

H 

\ 

wflf; 

\ 

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iff 

■ 

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< '1 

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i  i 


\:  ', 


r  f 


\ 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SIAM— RICH   ^tll— VAST   I'ORKSrs  OV    TIMliKR— I'.ANCKOK— Vl'I- 

TURKS  KA'MNd    llir,   1>1:AI)— A  rRKMAlION  — Al  I>n  \(  F. 

WITH    IIIK   KIM;— SIAMKSK    llir.AIRI". 

Bii/ix^'o^;  Siani,  Deciitiher  3,  18S7. 

If  we  could  stutly  scc-ct  bioj:^ra]-)liios  of  tlic  prcat  men  of  tlic 
world,  those  wlio  have  left  [jotpriiits  on  tlie  sands  of  time,  we 
would  probablj- find  that  the  cunei-.t.;  of  tlicir  lives  were  turneil 
into  the  channels  whicli  bore  them  to  tiieir  j^rcatness  by  most 
trivial  circumstances,  by  mere  straws.  So.  tot),  are  men's  opin- 
ions  moulili-'l,  -•.  ,a  !.;.^.:;t  colored,  by  tiie  veriest  trifles — colored 
into  prejudices  which  recjuire  time  .ind  care  to  eradicate.  He 
wiiose  mother's  treasured  porcel.iin  service  was  of  the  old  blue- 
willow  pattern,  has,  more  or  less,  his  impressions  of  the  Celesti.d 
Empire  fashioned  upon  tlie  model  he  studied  upon  the  pl.ites  from 
which  he  ate. 

Our  itieas  of  tropical  landsc.ipes  are  nearl)'  all  built  upon  the 
pictures  in  our  t^eo^raphies,  sho\vin|j;  us  ;i  dense  fern  .md  palm 
junj^le,  with  a  luiLje  boa-constrictor  wound  about  a  tree,  and  a 
tiijer  springing;  for  a  deer,  but  likely  to  lantl  in  the  open  j.iws  of  a 
crocodile;  or  of  a  forest  of  bany.ui  and  tree-ferns  overiiani;inij  a 
dark  stream,  with  .1  naketl  native  padiilinL,'  a  tiny  canoe  l)eneath 
the  clusterin;^r  branches.  Tliesi'  f.icts  shoidii  be  considered  b)-  the 
educators  of  youth;  even  the  illustrations  of  children's  books 
shoulil  be  made  car.;fully  true.  Here  I  would  suL,';^est  th.it  school 
atlases  lead  into  c.rors  which  fix  themselves  in  the  minds  of  chil- 
dren and  last  throu^^h  their  lives.  M.ips  of  our  own  ci)untry  and 
of  the  several  .States  are  upon  a  lar^a-  scale,  while  those  of  for- 
ei^m  countries  arc  on  ;i  ^rtatly  reduced  one.  The  eye  of  the  child 
measures  all  by  the  sp.ice  covered  on  the  sheet,  without  rt'fi-rence 
to  the  scale.  The  result  is  th.it  erromous  ideas  of  tlu-  rel.it ive 
magnitude  of  different  countries  become  fixtd  in  their  mind. 
This  has  been  the  fact  in  my  own  c.ise.  and  of  every  fellow-trav- 
eller to  whom  I  have  mentioned  the  tiling.  School  j^'eotjraphics 
should  have  all  maps  on  a  uniform  scale.  ru|)ils  v.ould  then, 
without  a  thought,  accpiire  accurate  comparison.^,  and  would 
better  understaml  the  worKIs  i,'eo^r.i|)h\-. 

Travellers'  maps  hi.ve  on  the  marj^'in  a  small  one  of  some  famil- 
iar home  land,  on  the  same  scale  witii  the  maps,  so  as  to  enable 

130 


TKOnCAI.  SCEAKKY. 


«3i 


the  traveller  at  a  glance  to  understand  the  dimensions  of  the  coun- 
tries he  visits.  Rand  and  IMcNally's  admirable  folding  maps  use 
Ohio  as  the  base  for  comparison.  VVe  have  several  times  heard 
intelligent  travellers,  who  knew  the  approximate  number  of  s(|uare 
miles  in  China  in  figures,  yet  exclaim  with  surprise  when  remark- 
ing the  insignificant  little  spot  represented  bj-  Ohio's  40,000  s(iuare 
miles  in  the  margin  of  t!ie  map  of  the  Celestial  emperor's  mighty 
dominion.  This  is  thrown  out  as  a  hint  to  intelligent  school- 
boards. 

My  early  imbibed  impressions  have  been  a  constant  stumbling- 
block  to  me  in  the  vasty  Hast.  These  thoughts  have  been  sug- 
gesteil  by  my  week's  sojourn  in  Siam,  the  last  and  fast-changing 
relic  of  Oriental  kingdoms  yet  existing  in  the  world.  When  we 
steamed  up  the  Menam  River  to  Hangkok  a  week  ago,  and  after- 
ward in  a  little  steam  barge  to  the  old  capital,  Ayuthia,  70  miles 
above,  I  felt  as  if  I  were  continuing  my  bt)j'hood  dream  of  a  tropi- 
cal land — the  living  picture  of  tiic  luige  banyan,  with  its  man)- 
arms;  the  dense  tangle  of  mighty  tree-ferns  and  broad-leafed,  low 
palms  ;  the  sjjreading  low  trees,  clotlied  in  a  mass  of  flowering 
vines  ;  the  clumps  u{  bamboo,  with  their  feathery  tops  ;  th.'  slen- 
der bi'tel.  the  stately  cocoa,  and  ilic  massive  fan-toi)ped  sugar- 
palms  ;  the  tiny  canoe  darting  in  and  out  of  the  little  creeks  and 
canals  almost  dark  into  deep  green  ;  the  dusky  native  [)ad(lling 
his  i'ttle  dugout.  I  fere  almost  alone  did  the  early  pictures  give 
us  true  ideas  of  tropical  lands  visited.  These  were  my  first  reali- 
zations of  a  veritable  land  of  the  burning  sun,  and  might  well  have 
been  the  spots  which  suggested  the  pictures  (or  rather  one  of 
them)  which  1  h.id  seen  in  my  school-book  .1  half  century  and 
more  ago.  Thesi-  have  printed  on  my  mind  a  photograph  which 
will  not  fatle  while  I  live,  anil  one  1  will  ever  enjoy  when  looking 
b.ick  upon  it. 

When  we  K'ft  home  for  a  race  with  the  sun  we  had  no  idea  of 
coming  lure,  but  did  so  owing  to  the  promise  of  Prince  Deva- 
wongse,  whom  wi^'  met,  as  bifore  stateil,  on  our  v( 'age  across  the 
Pacific.  We  did  not  expect  much  from  the  ])romise,  for  we  knew 
men  of  his  position  would  be  overrun  if  they  pay  too  much  atten- 
tion ti,  tr.i'.ellers,  who  are  now  so  abundant,  liut,  finding  we 
couKl  get  here  and  not  exhaust  more  than  a  couple  of  weeks  of 
our  time,  we  came,  and  h.ive  been  well  repaid  for  the  trip,  and 
must  acknowledge  our  iiulebtedne.ss  to  the  Prince,  not  onI\-  for 
Courtesies  externletl,  hut  for  others  he  wished  to  extend.  \Vc 
would  have  prob.ibl)'  gone  uji  the  river  to  l^aheng,  antl  then 
across  the  country  to  Moulmain  b)'  elephants,  had  not  the  king's 
barge  been  absent  on  .m  expedition  up  the  river.  This  would 
have  been  a  decidetl  novelty,  but  there  was  no  possibility  of  do- 
ing it  !))•  purely  private  conveyance,  except  with  a  loss  of  cit  least 
six  or  eight  weeks.  With  a  royal  barge  and  the  king's  order  lor  ele- 
phants we  could  have  done  it  in  a  month — possibly  in  three  weeks. 


1 


t  •,• 


t3« 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


X 


J I 


Siani  has  about  250,000  square  miles  of  territory  in  the  king- 
dom proper  and  its  immediate  dependencies.  It  is  the  most 
speculative  land  in  Asia.  Every  thin^'  is  possible  to  it,  and  a  vast 
deal  may  come  out  of  it.  Its  native  name  is  "  Thai."  I  am  writ- 
in^f  on  the  steamer,  which  we  boarded  an  liour  since  for  Sin^^a- 
po^e,  but  wiiich,  witii  true  Orientahsm,  will  not  get  off  for  three 
or  four  hours  after  its  advertised  time.  I  mention  this  to  show 
why  I  have  no  means  of  finding  whether  I  have  the  i)roper  name 
or  not.  It  means  "  free  land,"  or  "  land  of  the  free,"  and  yet 
there  is  not  a  single  free  tiling  in  it. 

The  king  owns  every  tiling,  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  everybody. 
Hr^  is  lord  of  all  he  surveys,  anil  j-et  is  himself  the  veriest  slave 
of  the  grovelling  superstitions  and  vile  cvistoms  of  his  people — 
srperstitions  ami  customs  which  must  be  a  source  of  intense  dis- 
gust to  so  intelligent  a  man  as  King  Chulalanghorn  eviileiitly  is, 
yet  which  he  couki  not  escape  except  at  the  risk  of  losing  his 
throne.  Absolute  monarch,  his  will  a  law  to  ever)-  man  in  the 
realm,  his  proclamations  gainsaid  by  no  one,  yet  he  himself  is 
absolutely  governed  !)>•  custom  and  the  opinions  of  his  nobles, 
even  to  the  il.iily  routine  of  his  life.  With  tastes  and  aspirations 
natural  to  a  man  of  culture,  ami  ambitions  growing  out  of  his 
royal  position  and  his  evitlent  desire  for  his  country's  prosperity, 
he  is  utterly  jiowerless  to  do  the  li.df  he  would  for  his  people,  be- 
cause he  is  locked  up  in  his  p. dace  aiul  can  see  the  people's  needs 
only  through  th.e  eyes  of  others,  and  can  hear  only  the  voice  of 
flattery,  or,  what  is  yet  worse,  the  voice  of  self-seeking  aiitl  too 
often  dishonest  ambition. 

With  a  kindly,  gentle  face,  bespeaking  a  w.irm  and  generous 
licart,  capable  of  deep  affection,  ami  showing  his  loving  disposi- 
'.ion  by  his  real  grief  for  the  untimely  death  of  his  first  (pieen,  he 
is  compelled  to  take  many  wives, — the  daughters  of  his  noble- 
men,— and  now  a  little  over  34  years  of  age,  is  the  f.ither  of  some 
30  odd  children.  When  I  left  his  presence,  after  a  kindl\'  and 
free  audience  of  a  half  hour,  and  recall  the  warm  and  manl)- grasp 
he  gave  my  hand  at  parting,  I  could  not  help  saying  to  myself : 
"  Monarch  I  absolute  master  of  9.000,000  of  human  beings,  that 
man  is  the  veriest  slave  in  his  whole  dominions."  I  pity,  rather 
than  envy  him. 

This  country  is  one  of  great  fertility,  having  a  soil  in  many 
parts  equal  to  the  valley  of  the  Nile.  Indeed  its  fertility  in  all 
the  rice-growing  sections  is  owing  to  the  annual  overflow  of  its 
great  rivers,  which  bring  down  rich  deposits  from  the  forest-clad 
mountains.  This  year  its  product  of  rice  is  somewhere  about  I2,- 
000,000  of  piculs,  each  of,  I  think,  •  ;o  odd  pounds.  It  sends  to 
Singapore  about  16,000  head  of  cattle  each  year,  and  yet  a  vast 
portion  of  its  territory,  and  a  very  rich  portion  too,  is  an  impene- 
trable jungle  of  the  most  valuable  timber  in  the  world, — forest  of 
teak,  ebony,  and  other  hard  woods, — all  of  which  the  world  wants, 


BETEL  CHEWING. 


133 


and  yet  the  trees  grow  and  die,  and  breed  the  deadly  jungle  fever, 
which  even  the  natives  cannot  brave  with  impunity.  Millions  of 
acres  of  these  forests  are  of  great  fertility,  and  would,  if  the  tim- 
ber were  cut  off,  feed  millions  of  people.  She  has  rich  coal-fields, 
and  very  rich  goKi  and  tin  mines.  Some  parts  of  her  mountains 
abound  in  precious  stones,  especially  sapphires  and  rubies.  These 
rich  mineral  valuables  are  almost  entirely  lost,  ant!  the  immense 
timber  resources  idle,  because  there  is  not  a  road  in  the  kingdom. 
In  the  lowlands  near  the  coast,  and  running  back  100  miles  or  so, 
there  are  for  the  sole  means  of  transportation,  the  river  and  little 
canals.  These  irrigate  the  rice  fields,  and  are  navigated  by  small 
row-boats.  The  land  is  cultivated  very  poorly  ;  the  small  one- 
handled  plow,  drawn  by  the  buffalo  and  o.\,  doing  the  work.  It 
is  said  her  people  are  all  si;  ves.  Ikit  it  is  not  the  slavery  we  gen- 
erally understand,  but  a  species  of  slavish  feudalism.  Prisoners 
of  war  and  their  children  for  all  time  are  absolute  slaves.  Of 
these  there  are  a  large  number.  Hut  the  remainder  are  bonded  to 
some  master.  A  ])arent  sells  his  child,  or  a  man  sells  himself,  or 
rather  mortgages  himself.  He  borrows  a  sum  of  money  at  a  very 
heavy  rate  of  interest — 15  jier  cent,  being  the  legal  rate,  but  a 
higher  rate  permissible, — and  pays  the  interest  through  life.  The 
debt  also  binds  his  children  under  this  feudal  custom.  Every  one 
first  belongs  as  feudatory  to  some  nobleman,  being  marked  by  a 
tattoo,  generally  on  the  wrist,  to  indicate  his  master.  He  owes 
to  the  nobleman  15  days'  work  each  year.  In  addition  to  this,  he 
is  bound  generally  by  a  mortgage  or  sale  to  some  other  master, 
perhaps  less  than   a  nobleman. 

Polygamy  is  universal,  and  one  sees  at  the  theatre  a  man  in  the 
dress  circle  of  men.  while  his  wife  or  wives  and  slaves  (female) 
arc  in  the  women's  circle.  All  classes  chew  the  betel  nut,  and  at 
the  theatre  each  family  has  the  bctel-po*:  and  s])ittoon.  The  latter 
is  carried  by  a  slave,  who  hands  it  to  the  ladies  when  they  wish 
to  spit.  The  betel  nut  is  astringent  and  somewhat  intoxicant.  It 
is  chewed  in  connection  with  a  p.iste  made  of  lime,  tobacco,  and 
pepjier  leaf.  It  not  only  bl.ickens  the  teeth  but  cracks  the  lips, 
and  so  injures  the  gums  that  tiie  teeth  are  caused  to  protrude  and 
look  straggled. 

The  king,  |)rinccs,  and  common  people  ;ire  alike  skives  to  the 
nasty  habit,  .uul  h.ilf  of  the  women  have  their  mouths  injured,  if 
not  absolutely  distorted  by  it.  (Otherwise  the  women  are  decidedly 
comely,  having  fine  forms  and  good  gaits.  Women  and  men  dress 
so  nearl}'  alike  that  we  could  hardly  distinguisii  one  from  the 
other  for  several  days,  for  all  wear  snort  hair.  The  dress  is  a 
cloth,  called  "  p.moong,  '  about  two  feet  wide,  wrapped  around 
the  w.iist,  with  one  corner  drawn  between  the  legs  anti  caught  in 
a  girdle  at  the  waist.  This  makes  a  sort  of  flowing  trouser,  falling 
to  the  knees.  A  gentleman  wears  a  closely  buttoned  coat  (sacque), 
buttoned  to  the  neck,  with  long  stockings  and  low  shoes.     The 


'li  H,  m ' 


a 


'."  s 


V  :j. 


^  :S 


J^ 


i 


•  i 


134 


J  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


[; 


1.'^' 


woman  generally  allows  the  "  panoong  "  to  hang  like  a  petticoat, 
and  wraps  about  her  breast  a  girdle,  leaving  the  upper  part  of  the 
bosom  and  shoulders  entirely  bare,  and  none  wear  shoes.  Many 
of  the  working  women  dispense  with  the  girdle  entirely.  The 
great  mass  of  people,  even  in  the  city,  go  bare-legged  ami  bare- 
footed. This  is  universal  in  the  country.  The  women  appear  to 
be  intlustrious,  and  iierform  much  more  than  half  the  work.  The 
men  are  lazy,  and.  witii  the  exception  of  fisiiing,  ai)|)ear  willing  to 
leave  the  women  to  earn  the  bread.  All  are  inveterate  gandilers, 
and  one  rarely  sees  a  gambling-house,  of  which  there  are  a  great 
many,  otherwise  than  full.  They  are  entirely  open  to  the  street, 
canal,  or  river,  and  at  night  are  distiiiguislutl  by  their  m.my 
lights.  I  am  told  the  king  wouKl  gladly  lessen  the  number  of 
these  gambling  places,  but  could  not  dispense  with  the  revenue 
the)-  bring  in.  The  inveterate  habit  of  gand)ling  is  the  cause  of 
;i  large  part  of  tlie  people's  sl,iver\-.  They  sell  thi-ir  children  and 
themselves  for  its  gratificaticni.  The  w  il\-  Cliinese  monopolize  the 
g.nnbling-houses,  as,  indeed,  they  do  nearly  all  the  avenues  of 
wealth  and  nearly  all  kinds  of  business  which  recpn're  industry 
;ind  skill. 

liangkok  has  over  80,000  of  these  pi-ople,  many  of  whom  have 
ac(iuire<l  large  fortunes  and  hold  prominent  positions.  The)'  ;ire 
the  business  men  of  the  country,  and  also  the  cooks  and  waiters 
for  the  ICuropeans  who  live  here,  and  to  ni)-  surprise  the  w. liters 
in  the  prince's  dining-room  wore  pigtails.  1  do  not  wonder  so 
man)'  foreigners  throughout  the  Kast  proplies)-  that  they  are  tlu; 
coming  nice  of  the  world. 

Hangkok  lies  on  eitlur  side  of  the  Men.im  River,  thirty  miles 
from  its  mouth.  This  is  a  stream  varying  from  400  to  Soo  )'ards 
in  width,  an<l  running  through  a  perfectly  t1at  country,  the  !)anks 
at  high  tide  being  barely  out  of  the  water.  I'"ringing  it  for  many 
miles  from  the  mouth  is  a  lieav)-  growth  of  tropical  plants  -palms 
of  several  varieties,  tree-ferns,  tam.irind  .md  mango  trees,  several 
trees  with  wax)' leaves  and  having  large  flowers,  and  indeed  many 
varieties  of  beautiful  woods,  so  tliick  together  that  seen  from  the 
level  of  the  river  they  appear  to  be  an  .almost  im|)enetrable  jungle. 
But  beh.ind  this  fringe  of  forest  stretch  great  i)lains  of  rice  fields 
as  f.ir  as  the  eye  can  reach,  unless  when  varied  b)'  another  fringe 
along  some  large  canal.  Scattered  through  these  fields  are  beauti- 
ful sugar-palms  now  and  then  clumped  in  groves.  The  great  teak 
and  ebony  forests  up  the  river  are  several  hundred  miles  from  the 
coast.  These  are  so  dense  that  the  superintendent  of  the  con- 
struction of  telegraph.  Mr.  I'ritz — an  American—  consumed  two 
or  three  months  in  cutting  a  way  for  a  line  through  ;i  forest  of 
65  miles.  There  was  an  advance  party  of  some  50CJ  natives  cutting 
the  trail,  and  a  second  party  of  170  ])utting  up  the  poles  and  wire. 
Klcphants  were  used  for  all  carrying.  .So  terrible  w.is  the  jungle 
fever  that  in  that  one  jungle  some  250  natives  died  within  two 


BANGKOK  AND  BAT///NG. 


13s 


months.     If  a  close  of  20  j^rairj  of  quiiiiiK-  failed  to  break  the 
fever  death  ahiiost  iiniiiediately  ensued, 

A  laP4e  anuniiit  of  1o<ts  are  floated  down  the  Menam,  and 
sawed  at  Han^^kok.  lUit  so  difficult  is  the  ^'ettin^^  of  lo^s  to  the 
river,  there  biiny  absolutely  no  kind  of  roads,  that  the  timber 
>clls  in  Bangkok  at  about  60  cents  a  cubic  foot.  And  yet  Mr. 
l-'ril/  assured  us  there  are  vast  (|uantities  of  this  timber  rotting  in 
the  forests  within  comparatively  short  distances  frtjm  the  streams. 
The  people  are  so  utterly  la/y  that  their  labor  can  never  be  de- 
pended upon  to  build  roads,  or  in  any  way  develop  the  resources 
of  the  l.md.  l-'oreij^n  energy  and  capital  must  be  called  into 
requisition.  The  constant  a^j^ressiveness  of  the  Knj^lish  and 
I'"rench  in  this  corner  of  Asia  makes  the  kin;^  n.ilurall)-  fearful  of 
tjetlini;  tluir  .lid,  and  the  jealousj-  of  these  two  of  the  (iermans, 
renders  them  out  of  the  ijuestion.  ( )ne  can  sec  but  one  way  out 
of"  the  dilemm.i,  .md  that  is  for  the  kin^  to  call  upon  American 
pluck  antl  ener;,^}-.  lie  has  nothin;^  to  fear  from  them  jjolitically 
or  otherwise  ;  and  the  other  n.itioiialilies  can  feel  no  jealousy  of 
the  republic. m  in  this  l.uul  of  des|K)tism.  I  iiave  ^'ood  reason  to 
believe,  in  f.ict  to  know,  that  kin<;  and  princes  feel  very  kindly 
tow.irds  us,  and  h.ive  no  doubt  that  an  Americ.m  s\  lulicate  could 
lind  .1  splendid  field  for  enert^y  in  .Siam- -.1  field  which  would 
brin^'  to  the  operators  larj^e  profit,  and  would  do  more  ^ood  in 
eilucatin^'  and  elevatiuL;  this  scpialid  people  than  I.OCK)  mis- 
sionaries could  ilo  in  a  (pi.irter  of  a  centur\'.  A  prince  saiil  to  me: 
'■  We  acknow  ledije  our  ^reat  indebtedness  to  the  American 
missionaries;  the)-  never  turn  a  man  from  Hudtlha  to  Christ,  but 
we  owe  \.o  them  nearly  all  of  our  iileas  of  western  proj^rcss.  The 
kin^'  feels  very  kindl\'  toward  them,  and  has  no  fear  that  the)'  will 
do  any  h.irm  b\-  converting  our  people  ;  but  business  follows  where 
the  missionaries  j^o." 

H,in^d<ok  is  entirely  different  from  all  other  eastern  cities  we 
h.ivc  seiii.  I'.lsewhere  the  houses  are  compacted  together  so  as 
to  cover  as  little  sp.ice  as  possible,  and  the  people  arc  massed  as 
in  hives.  This  city,  however,  with  its  ^^COCX)  people,  covers 
more  ground  th.m  C. niton  with  its  ^rcwi  popul.ition.  There  are 
few  streets,  but  they  are  (|uite  broad.  Canals  run  in  every  direc- 
tion, ami  are  so  numerous  that  the  Siamese  are  proud  to  call 
their  capital  the  Venice  of  the  I-ast.  Houses  project  over  these 
cm, lis,  with  open  balconies,  and  both  sides  of  the  river  for  six  or 
more  miles  are  lined  with  floating  houses,  used  not  only  for  resi- 
dences, but  for  business.  People  do  their  shopping  in  boats; 
and  while  a  woman  sells  to  her  customer  in  view,  for  all  houses 
have  open  fronts,  her  la/.)'  husband  fishes,  sitting  upon  a  box  of 
goods,  and  his  children  bathe  and  swim  around  the  house.  In 
rowing  or  being  rowed  about  there  was  never  a  moment  that  we 
could  not  see  somewhere  a  bather  ;  and  just  at  sundown  all  the 
common  world  seems  amphibious.     The  "panoong"  is  kept  on 


■ 


II         1 


:  , 


Ml 


136 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


i*-. 


n  tl 


when  in  the  water,  and  is  then  either  exchanged  for  a  dry  one  or 
left  on  to  dry.  Rivers  and  canals  are  always  filled  by  freight 
boats,  40  to  60  feet  long  ;  by  small  peddler-boats,  by  canoes  of  all 
sizes,  from  ten  feet,  barely  holding  a  man,  up  to  100  or  more 
feet,  with  50  or  more  paddlers  moving  in  state  with  some  high 
official.  I  saw  one  long  canoe  with  nearly  ICXD  rowers.  Kach  one 
would  dij)  his  paddle  and  then  lift  it  on  high,  a  curious  sight  thus 
to  see  nearly  100  paddles  poised  in  air  at  the  same  time.  There 
are  quite  a  large  number  of  small  steam  barges  in  the  citj- 
belonging  to  Europeans  engaged  in  timber  sawing  and  in  rice 
milling  and  shipping.  These  dart  about  very  rapidly.  In  fact 
all  boats  seem  to  do  so.  for  the  tide  runs  very  swiftly,  and  boats 
going  with  its  current  move  in  the  channel,  while  those  going 
against  it  stick  to  the  .shore  eddies.  This  makes  the  river  a  very 
lively  one,  especially  towards  the  cool  of  the  daj-.  Trees  abound 
throughout  the  town,  along  streets,  along  the  canals,  and  about 
the  houses,  many  of  them  of  good  forest  size.  Looking  down 
from  a  high  pagoda,  one  can  .scarcely  realize  one's  self  in  the  heart 
of  a  great  city.  The  ordinary  house  is  almost  entirely  lost  in  tiie 
mass  of  green.  Here  and  there  one  peeps  out  looking  cool  and 
shaded.  But  the  lofty  snow-white  i)agodas,  the  tall  steep-roofed 
temples,  roofed  in  tiles  of  many  colors,  many  of  them  in  gilt  ;  the 
beautiful  kiosk  turrets  of  the  jialaces,  the  gilded  royal  "  wat  "  and 
cenotaph,  and  the  white  palaces  themselves,  make  the  city 
from  an  eminence  look  like  a  vast  royal  garden,  wth  jirincely 
palaces  and  Oriental  temples  nestled  among  ornamental  tropical 
verdure.  The  "  wat  "  is  a  sort  of  monastery,  with  its  temple  and 
kiosk  and  lodging-houses  of  the  priests  within  a  single  enclosure. 
There  are  a  great  many  in  the  city,  and  many  of  them  of  wonder- 
ful richness. 

Some  of  the  temples  and  pagodas  arc  apparently  made  up  en- 
tirely of  gilt  and  glass  mosaic,  in  small  pieces  inlaid  in  cement 
walls  and  flashing  in  the  sunlight  like  mountains  of  gf)ld  and 
diamonds.  The  royal  "  wat  "  makes  the  looker-on  feel  that 
Aladdin's  lami)  is  close  by.  revealing  to  him  scenes  of  fairy  won- 
der, rather  than  scenes  of  actual  reality.  It  is  within  ami  with- 
out— its  several  temple  buildings  and  its  five  or  si.x  lofty  round- 
pointed  pagodas — made  up  of  gold  and  gems.  The  gold  is  of 
burnt,  gilded  pottery  in  small  squares  of  an  inch,  brilliantly 
glazed  :  the  gems  are  of  glass  of  different  colors,  and  set  like 
rose-faced  diamonds,  sapphires,  and  rubies.  Looking  upon  the 
pile  of  these  buildings,  covering  several  acres,  just  as  the  sun  goes 
down,  with  a  gentle  breeze  causing  the  thousand  tiny  bells  which 
hang  to  cornice,  frieze,  and  projecting  point  to  tinkle,  we  almost 
felt  as  if  wc  had  been  carried  off  by  some  flying  genii  and  gently 
dropped  upon  a  scene  of  Oriental  fable.  Unfortunately  all  of  the 
temples,  pagodas,  and  kiosks  are  of  brick,  stuccoed  with  Portland 
cement,  and  the  gems  and  gold  planted  into  it  will  last  only  for  a 


■1; 


l! 


f .  •. 


1 


4   1 


m 


!     I\l' 


;).    M 


m^ 


Is 


! 


V 


1 


I 


w 


\i'\ 


,r< 


p 


conrsjis  HA r/:A  /m  ii  /. n -h'Ks. 


nf 


short  time.  Many  th(nisaiuls  of  dollars  arc  rcquirctl  each  year  to 
keep  the  entire  fabrics  of  beaut)'  from  tumbling  into  decay.  A 
change  of  ilynasty  will  brinj^  (|uickly  tl'.e  ^,'lory  of  Siam's  capital 
into  a  heap  of  debris.  Ayutia,  once  a  ^jreat  city,  which  w.is  aban- 
doned  loo  and  odd  years  aj^o  when  this  royal  family  fountled 
Hangkok,  is  alrcad>-  a  lieajjof  ruins,  its  "  wats"  ami  lofty  p.ij^oda.s 
furnishing  soil  for  the  roots  of  rapidlj'  growing  tro[)ical  plants. 
They  are  not  absolutely  fallen  down,  but  the  plants  and  shrubs 
are  climbing  up  their  lofty  heights  and  find  homes. 

The  first  thing  we  did  o\\  our  arrival  at  H.ingk(jk  was  to  drive 
to  the  royal  garilen,  where  a  fuie  military  baml  plays  everj-  Sun- 
day afternoon.  The  music  was  good,  the  le.ukr  (ierman.  The 
gardens  ;ire  beautifid,  one  avenue  of  bamboos  being  as  i;ni(|ue  as 
preltj'.  This  tree  here, as  we  are  told,  too,  it  does  in  India,  grows 
in  massy  clumps,  almost  like  a  solid  tree.  These  clumps,  about  50 
feet  apart,  on  either  side  of  a  long  avenue,  send  up  tiicir  feathery 
plumes  about  60  feet,  meeting  at  a  less  height  over  the  roadway, 
and  making  a  perfect  green,  liothic  arch,  which,  viewed  from 
either  end,  is  as  regular  as  a  catheilral  aisle.  In  the  ganleiis  \vc 
met  many  of  the  200  foreigners  who  make   Hangkcjk  their  home. 

The  next  day  early  we  called  upon  Col.  Child,  our  genial  min- 
ister. He  took  us  in  charge,  antl  to  him  we  owe  much  which 
made  our  visit  to  Siam  very  charming.  We  called  on  Prince 
l)evawongse,the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  who  received  us  most 
cordiall)',  and,  after  entertaining  us  for  some  time,  sent  one  t)f  his 
aids  to  show  us  the  famous  sacred  white  elej)hants  and  the  royal 
■•w.it."  The  white  ele])liants  have  .jlue  eyes,  are  light-colored,  but 
not  whiter  th.m  I^arnum's  be.ist,  which,  by  the  way.ilid  not  come 
from  Siam.  The  poor  brutes  here  do  noi  seem  t(j  enjoy  very 
greatly  their  sacred  bond.ige,  but  tied  bj'  tlie  hind  leg  they  sway 
b.iik  and  forth,  and  beg  for  a  nut  as  reailily  as  do  those  in 
menageries.  The  oldest  wears  a  brace  of  ivories  which  would 
make  him  ipiite  sacred  to  an  ivor\'  worker,  but  munclus  green 
grass  in  a  viT\-  uns.icred  way.  Insteail  of  being  housed  in  gilded 
(ju.irters,  he  is  tied  u])  in  a  dingy  stable  and  is  attendetl  by  a  half- 
naked  mahout  insteail  of  a  priest  in  saintly  robes  ;  a  priest,  how- 
ever, oversees  his  household. 

On  our  second  ilay  we  rowed  about  some  of  the  canals,  anil  then 
climbed  the  old  "  \\'at-.Se-K;it,"  a  huge  pagoda  over  ^00  feel  in  di- 
ameter, built  of  .1  solid  m.iss  of  brick — countless  millions  being  in 
the  m.iss — .md  lifting  Jix)  feet  high.  A  slairwa)-  leads  around  it, 
as  in  the  ])icture  of  the  Tower  of  Habel.  i-'rom  this  wi'  had  our 
first  view  of  the  forest-clad  city.  Iklnw  us  immediately  were  the 
conmion  cremator)*  grounds,  and  tlu'  scpiare  in  which  the  bodies 
of  those  too  poor  to  pay  for  cremation  are  given  to  the  vultures. 
A  large  flock  of  these  mournful  birds  were  roosting  on  a  low 
pagoda  close  by.  Seeing  a  smoke  we  supposed  a  cremation  was 
going  on,  but   found   it   arose  from  burning  coffins  and   rubbish. 


\ 


'M.n!P  i 


}■   .  "'k 


f 


im 


/!! 


ht 


'I! 


) 


•38 


A  RACK  Wr'-H  TJil'.  S^HS. 


We  then  went  Id  the  .squ;;ic  for  viic  poor,  and,  to  our  surprise,  al- 
most liorror,  a  newly  dead  liodj-  had  just  been  laid  in  it.  It  was 
limp  anil  hanlly  cold.  li  was  of  an  old  woman  who  had  died  (,f 
cholera,  always  here.  A  covering;  was  laiil  over  the  middle  of  the 
body,  but  the  lu.id,  bust,  arms,  ami  le^s  were  bare. 

Just  .is  we  entered  .;.  vulture  flew  down,  then  another  ami 
others.  Two  or  three  dofjn  were  walking'  about  near-by.  The 
birds  hopped  about  the  body,  but  did  not  seem  satisfied  it  was 
dead.  I'resently  one  of  the  iloj^s  stole  up  and  conunenced  to  tear 
a  piece  of  flesh  Ir'ni  tiie  cheek.  Rapidlj'  file  birds  closed  in.coni- 
mencin^f  at  the  i-ves.  Tlie  siL;ht  was  so  sickeiiin;,,'  that  we  all 
turned  and  went  out,  not  lookm^f  back.  W'e  saw.  however,  the 
rel.itions  of  the  deail  s(|uatted  in  a  sort  of  shed  temple  close  by, 
wliile  .1  robed  priest  was  reailmt,^  fnuu  b.ind)iio  leaves  the  .service 
for  the  de.id.  W'e  felt  that  it  these,  the  relatives,  were  not  hor- 
rified at  the  m.m^lin^'  of  their  loved  one,  it  was  sickly  sentimen- 
tality for  us  so  to  be  ;  so  we  returneil.  W'e  had  not  been  absent 
five  minutes,  but  in  that  time  the  vultures  had  ccnie  in  muIi  num- 
bers tUait  the)' were  ;i  s(juirmin^',  tossiuL;  ma>s  o\er  the  corpse. 
Five  6i*i55s  were  there  by  this  tune,  snappiuL;  and  ;.^ro\\lin_L;  antl 
tryin^'tvi  drive  the  birds  aw.iy  so  that  the)'  could  j^et  at  the  fe.ist. 
Prestrrrrh-  the  birds  seemed  !  m-  the  moment  satisfied,  and  lobbied 
off.  Tien  the  doi;s  wiiit  in,  Hut  one  of  the  attendants,  seein;^ 
wur  dt^.;ui-it  at  the  lU)^^  p.irt  ol  the  dr.ajnia,  ilrove  them  a\\a_\',  when 
the  vujrua-'  s  .iLjain  returned.  In  le-s  tiian  thirty  minuli's  tromthe 
tiiiK-  thf  iM'dy  was  laiil  there,  the  bh>ody,  jj;or^'ed  birds  lli-w  off, 
one  \t:  ■■»»e,  and  left  tl.e  bare  sk^eJeton  for  the  do^s  to  pull  .it  the 
simtnv-  -uttl.at  the  tou,i;h  hands  aimd  feet,  which  the  \  ultmcs' be,d<s 
«:(<Htkl  mi*r  tiear. 

<■  were  all.  hocked  by  the  -it^ht,  l)Ul  \  ery  (|uickl_\-  this  feel- 

_,  ,i  iff.   VVe  ct>ulil  not  i.e;;;i  leelini^  it  was  not  a  whit  woise 

tJun^lamaiig  a  loved  one  in  the  ;.^r>>und  to  beconu'  fond  for  worms. 
Tlri         ::  led  but  fittini,'  mmisters ;   it  is  their  c.iUini;,  and 

ha  untless  ai^es.      h'or  i'>untliss  successions  of  ^en- 

been  .ddnr^'  Tsian  in  this  waj-  to  ^;et  rid  of  his 
i,.c.n,.  uirrt^..,.,  .,,  jjuttin^f  them  in  the  L;rounil  to  feed  worms  .md 
p<»iison  tilt!  water*  of  life.  Hut  there  was  something  horrible  in 
the  lio"'"  pcrfoitnutnce.  He  is  nian's  friend,  and  m.m  t.d<escare 
of  him,  VVe  did  iiot  after  that  pass  a  .Siamese  cur  th.it  we  il'il  not 
feci  a  desin;  tn  A'hack  him  over  the  heail.  lUit,  after  .ill,  the 
revulsion  of  feeiniir  which  came  so  cpiickl)'  to  us  w.is  ow  in^'  to  the 
fact  that  the  fruTids  of  the  dead  woin.m — pirh.ips  her  daut^hters 
and  j,'ranilchildreTi — were  there  w  ithin  ten  paces  of  the  scene,  lis- 
tening, with  bowed  heads  and  clasjied  hands,  to  t!ie  promises  of 
their  ileit)'  to  those  who  have  lived  piously.  The  priest  ch.iiiteil 
in  monotonous  tone,  but  leverentl)'  .md  with  inteiisi'  pathos,  the 
les.son  he  w.is  re.idin}^.  After  the  binls  h.id  t.iken  .ill  they  cared 
to  have,  we  turned  from  the  do},'s  fi^htin^  over  the  skeleton  and  li.s- 


CREMATION  OF  A  PRIXCE. 


'39 


tened  almost  with  awe  to  llic  fimer.il  services,  .md  watched  with  a 
full  eye  tlie  faces  i)f  tlie  stricken  family.  Some  of  them  were  old, 
and  would  soon  lie  in  that  s.ime  charnelhouse  whose  floor  w.is  the 
earth — mother  of  us  all — and  whose  ceiling  was  the  blue  sky  far 
above.  What  mattered  it  to  them  how  (heir  botlies  should  return 
to  the  du->t,  if  tiu-ir  souls  could  onl)'  win^  their  flight  thriai^h 
yonder  wondrous  blue  to  mini^le  a;^ain  with  the  spirit  of  the  ever- 
li\'ini;  (iod  from  whence  the\'  came?  We  spoke  to  a  Si.unesc 
prince  of  our  manner  of  burying,  lie  s.iitl  :  "  I  will  be  creni.ited, 
but  a  thousand  times  rather  wou'd  I  be  eaten  by  vultures  than  to 
lie  and  rot  in  the  sodtleii,  nasty  ^iv)unil."  Which  is  the  better, 
his  ideas  or  ours  ?  The  world  is  ^overneil  b}"  cou\entionalism. 
That  which  is  accepteil  b)' all  is  the  best.  There  is  but  one  lliin^' 
which  is  absolutely  ^'ood.  That  is  a  life  in  accordance  with  the 
\\\\\  of  (lotl.     Who  can,  w  ho  may  rij^ditl)',  inter])ret  that  will  ? 

M)-  a  sin;_;idar  tr.uisilion  we  were  wit  msses  that  -ame  afternoon  of 
the  cereuioM)'  of  cri'malion  of  oui  of  tlu'  powerful  and  rich  of  t!u' 
land.  .\t  half-past  four  we  went  to  a  lari^'e  "  w,il,"  to  be  present 
at  the  l.i'-i  rites  in  honor  of  "  I'hran.ii  Samochai,"  who  dierl  nine 
months  before,  anil  had  been  Ijini;  in  state  in  spices  m\(\  sweet 
herbs  in  one  of  the  spacious  halls  of  his  jial.ice.  Colonel  Child  and 
1  mA  there  a  little  ear!\'.  We  wandered  about.  On  the  mattiii'', 
spread  al>out  on  the  i^rass  in  one  of  the  temple  courts,  were  the 
wives  ami  fen). de  slaves  of  the  dead  m.m,  all  crouched  down,  with 
!)lack  "  p.uiooii'.' "  ;uid  whiti-  sc.irfs  about  their  bodies.  In  an  inner 
court  were  sonu-  nun  s.iuin;^  into  .i  \'ery  l.ir^e  box.  Wi-  went 
ne.w.  It  w.is  the  outer  c.ise  cont.iiniiiL^  llu  coffin,  .uid  ,iir-ti;^ht. 
Sc.ircel)'  h.id  the  s.iw  p.issed  throuj^h  the  board  wh<  ti  the  putrid 
jjascs  escaping,',  drove  us  from  the  inclosure.  The  body  was  then 
put  into  ;i  small  vaulted  room.  Into  this  the  head  wife  entered, 
soljbini;   ,ind  following  came  others. 

In  'he  ji  ter  courts  two  theatrical  performances  were  ^(oin^  on 
out  of  hciriiii;  of  e.ich  other.  ()\\\i  in  Chinese — for  the  dece.iscd 
was  a  Chinaman  by  birth  the  other  in  .Si.uncse.  These  are  pro- 
vided for  the  people  th.it  they  m.i)'  enjoy  themselves,  for  the 
buri;,l  of  a  t^'ood  m.m  is  not  .i  c.uise  of  njourninL,^  lie  has  ^one  to 
a  better  life,  and  his  frieiuls  should  rejoice.  Between  these  two 
thealresftemporary  I  there  was  an  erection,  some  I  „'  \  Jo  feet  hij^h, 
on  four  columns.  Tiiis  was  .i  haiulsomely  carved  white  cornice, 
from  which  to  the  {ground  drooped  black  drapery,  cauj^Iu  up  in 
white.  I'lider  this  w.»s  ;.n  oven-shajx'd  altar,  ami  over  ft  an  o|)en 
white  cat.d.dipie  covered  with  (lowers  .md  <^ilt.  The  son  of  the 
dead    man,    acting  as    mastir  of  cerenionies,  seeinjj  us  walkinjj 


bout,  sent  to  us  a 


brij^ht 


ad,  wno  we  learned  was  ^'randson  o 


tlie  deceased,  and  spoke  pood  ICnpIish.      He  puided  us  to  a  tented 
pavilion  close  by  the  cataf.dtpu-,  jjrovided  us  with  ch.iirs,  and  soon 


^Mve   us  tea  .iiul   cipars 


Quite 


.f 


e  .1  number  ol   prommeiit    people 


were  there;  two  of  them  h.id  been  passengers  on  the  Parlliia  in 


I  ■ 


w 


i 


lI 


\   J 


'  r.t 


\  ♦ 


n 


140 


A  RACE  WITH  THJ-:  SUN. 


I 


•h 


Davawon^sc's  suite.  riic'-.i-'  -^pokc  lo  us,  ;'iil  ^mvc  us  some  ox- 
pliiuatioiis.  Prcsfiitly  ^<>nic  other  foreif^ners  arrivcil,— mission- 
aries  and  consuls.  Soon  the  coffin,  in  a  brass  case  without  top  or 
bottom,  was  pur  on  the  altar,  hvuv^  liftetl  up  a  toot  or  so.     In  the 


mean 


time   j)riests  were  chanting  all   around.      I.art^e  1 


;ju 


ndk 


)f 


cloth  were  then  put  upon  the  bier,  and  after  lyin{,f  a  moment 
were  taken  off  by  the  priests.  The\-  were  jiresents  from  the  dead 
man's  estate.  Many  of  them  had  extra  sheets  an<'  robes  for  .i 
year.  About  tiie  catafalque  were  tall  bamboo  frames,  so  covered 
with  lanti-rns  as  to  rescnibli'  blazing  p.igodas.  Just  at  dusk  a 
steam  barge  steamed  uj)  in  the  canal  close  by.  and  Prince  Ongnai, 
full  brother  of  the  king,  and  regent  or  second  king,  the  first 
prince  in  the  land,  arrived,  and  ther;  with  a  flourish  another  b.irge 


came  from  the  palace  with  the  sacred  fire,  which  i.s  never  allowed 
to  die  out.  sent  liy  the  king.  "  ( )ngn.ii."  after  p.issing  among  the 
gue4s  with  .i  few  words  for  his  friends  and  a  jxilite  greeting  for 
all.  lighted  from  this  fire  a  piece  of  sandal-wood  ,ind  a  .stick  of 


^e^mous   mcense 


and   set    fire  to    sandal-stick 


un 


der   the    bier. 


(^ther  le.iding  mm  followed  him.ai^d  then  flowers  of  sandal-wood 


were  given 


the   foreigners,  and   \\i 


Wl 


re   asked    to    assist.     Our 


we  saw 


1  our 


doing  so  seemed  to  please  the  famil}'.     Thus  in  one  d.iy 
vultures  .md  dogs  eat  one  of  the  poor  of  the  lan<l,  and  witl 
own  h.inds  helped   to  burn   up  one  of  its  rich  and   great   ones 
Soon  the  whole  pile  w.\s  in  (l.tmes. 


W'^ 


we 


re  invited   to   the   house  close  bv  to  dine,  but  declined. 


At  night  we  again  went  up  to  see  the  l)rilliant  fireworks  in  h'  nor 
of  the  dead.  All  was  feasting  and  eninyment.  l"'ood  was  spread 
about  for  the  ])oor.  .Shows  and  pageants  were  kept  u|)  for  the 
jiuitlic  amusement.  The  funeral  pile  at  night  w.'.s  become  .i  mass 
of  coals,  all  of  fr.igrant  woods.  A  man  stood  by  who,  with  .i  sort 
of  hooked  poki-r.    would   pu-h   up   the   fire  .md   j)ull  uji  scr.ips  of 


o(l\-  to  keep  them  t)urnini 


u-  tin-  IS  kept  up  for  .:.}  Iiours.     1  ho 


ashes  of  the  bones  w  ere  then  g.ithered  togetlur  .md  ki  pt  in  .m  urn. 
whil'-  the  rem.iinder  of  the  iislus  wen-  taken  out  and  NC.itti'red  (Ui 


le  river. 


boat 


>oicmn 


!)•  flo.iting  down  it  for  the  purpose, 


Thr  next  d.iy  we  were  informed  that  the  king  would  gr.int  an 
audience  t  >  C!ol.  Child  to  enabK-  him  to  present  an  .lutogr.iph 
letier  from  the  rresidiut   of   the  United   St.ites,  and  wouM  then 


give  us  ,1  ])rivate  .uidieiice  ,it  5  1'.  M. 


At    tl 


le   appointed  hour,  in 


full   dress,    we   were   .it    the    royal   palace.       We  were  met  at  tlu 
grand   g.iti-   by  an   off'm  r.  who  conducted  us  through  the  courts 


1' 


rince  DeNMWoni'sr  nut  us  oii 


of  iKUiseliold  guard-,  we  passed  up  the   bro.ul   palace  stt 


tlif  w.i\-.      i'.issiiiL'  throutdi  .1   file 

The 


E 


llilCC     IS, 


by  the  wa\-.  .1  long,  two-story  and  basement  It.ili.m 
ilding.  with  .1  ct-ntr.i!  projecting  p.ivilion.  ,ind  a  p.ixilion  ,it 
either  end.  of  beautiful  kiosk-form.  It  is  of  brick,  cenunted  .md 
p.iinted  in  pure  white.  It  cannot  be  tinned  m.tgnificent,  but  it  is 
very  chaste  and  pure  in  its  style  and  exceedingly  h.mdsome.      .Ml 


I 


|il 


AUDIEA'CE  WITH  rilli  KIXG. 


141 


;» 


the  public  buildiii^js,  by  tlic  wny,  except  tlic  uty  w.ills  and  pates 
or  portals,  arc  Italian  in  style  atxl  erected  by  Italian  architects, 
tnterinp  a  broad  and  lofty  vestibule,  we  were  seated  at  a  table 
and  served  with  cielicious  tea  antl  cij^arettes.  We  wrote  our 
names  in  a  handsomely  bound,  larpe  register,  md  each  one  his 
name  and  place  of  residence  in  an  autograph-book,  under  the 
date  of  birth,  and  opposite  a  verse  of  I'.nL^iish  poetry. 

.Sc.uceiy  were  wc  throuj^h  with  this  when  a  m.ister  of  cere- 
monies announced  that  the  kinfj  was  ready  to  receive  us.  Ac- 
companied bj'  I'rince  Dev.iwongse,  we  mounted  another  short 
Hipht  of  steps  into  the  j^r.md  receptitJM-ruom.  Throi.tih  this  ele- 
j^ant  room,  kjo  feel  loiv^,  beaulifally  furnisheil.  .md  with  w.dls 
ornamenti:tl  with  luiropean  i),iintinps,  we  passed  between  files  of 
body-^^uards  into  the  kind's  private  reception-room.  This  is  also 
a  lofty  and  Kirj,u'  ap.irtment,  most  tastefully  furnished.  Ne.irthe 
door  stood  .Siam's  celestial  nion.irch.  We  were  all  presented  .intl 
shaken  by  the  hand.  Mr.  Child  then,  in  a  neat  speech,  which 
was  not  interpreti-d,  presented  I'resitlent  Clevel.ind's  letter,  a 
cojiy  of  which  had  already  been  sent  in  son\e  time  l)efore  ;  the 
kii4,f,  therefore,  did  not  open  it,  but  said  in  Siamese,  interpreted 
by  Devawonpse,  th.it  lie  was  much  pleased  to  receive  this  ,iuto- 
j^raph  letti-r  from  the  rresiti-nt  of  the  L'niteil  .States,  and  thanked 
him  for  the  kindly  .md  f'leiulK-  expressions  in  it,  and  recjuested 
the  minister  to  convey  to  the  President  his  th.mks.  .md  also  to 
tile  Americans  for  their  '.ourtesy  to  his  roy.il  brother,  when  lately 
li.issiiip  tliroUL,'h  till'  country,  lie  then  s.iid  he  felt  \er\'  friiMully 
tow.ird  the  President  .mtl  the  people  of  the  Unite-d  .St.ites,  .md 
.isked  us  as  to  the  he.ilth  of  the  formei.  The  minister's  speech 
and  replies  were  not  interpreteil,  for  C  hul.il.in^^horn  understands 
ami  sj)caks  ICn^lish  well,  but  will  not,  .is  a  m.itfei  of  eti<iuette, 
use  to  a  foreij;ner  any  otl'.er  than  his  native  toiiiuie. 

Our  roy.il  host  then  •■teppetl  b.ick  to  the  midiUe  of  the  room, 
t.ikiiij.;  a  ch.iir  .It  the  head  of  a  lon^'  business  t.ible,  and  with  a 
pleasant  word  .md  gesture  asked  us  to  be  se.iteil.  lii-  motioneil 
me  to  .1  seat  imm-'di.itely  to  his  ri^jiit,  saying  he  h.id  he.iid  I  was 
a  fellow-traveller  across  the  ocean  with  his  brother,  .mil  that  we 
had  become  ipiite  ^.lod  friei  .i.  The  ofl'ici.il  interpreter  stood 
behind  him.  i)ut  tlu  Prince  acted  in  his  pl.ice  duriiij^  the  .ludiencc. 
I  replied  th.il  I  had  tli.it  honor,  .md  that  it  was  a  ii;reat  pleasure 
to  me,  for  I  h.id  found  his  Koyal  1 1  i;,diness  not  only  .i  pleas.mt  but 
ver\'  instructive  coiiipni^iion  tin  7(>riij;t\  My  replies  were  not  in- 
terpnted,  .md  I  found  the  kinp  c.iupht  my  remarks  (|uite  as 
re.idily  as  did  his  brother,  lie  then  .isked  wh.it  sort  of  a  travel- 
Icr  his  brother  was.  I  said  an  .idmir.ible  one,  but  I  v,.is  forced  to 
state,  even  in  his  presence,  .md  with  my  .ipolo;^ies,  tli.it  he  was 
not  alw.iys  in  a  most  fittin^j  condition-  in  fact,  w.is  freipieiitly 
not  entirely  iiimself,  not,  however,  from  wine,  but  from  an  over- 
indulgence in   sea  .lir  .md  vvell-stirretl  water.     The  kin^^  l.iu^hed 


•'•i  'tih 


ill; 


5:      '< 


I   »l 


iM?^ 


)  A  * 


fM 


! 


I  i 


:•  I 


••  i 


/  s 


M.I 


|l.  !  I 


S49 


//  A'.ICi:  WITH  Till'.  SUX. 


licartily  at  this  and  made  some  by-p!ay  remarks  to  the  Prince. 
We  afterward  learned  lie  had  himself  not  lon^'  since  suffered  con- 
siderahly  from  sea-sickness,  and  was  j;Iad  to  get  his  brotlier  on  the 
hip.  He  asked  me  if  the  I'rince  spoke  my  language  well.  I 
replied  ;  "  Like  a  native,  but  that  he  was  so  patriotic  tliat  in  his 
intercourse  with  the  \-oung  princes  and  his  suite  he  always  used 
his  own  language:  that  our  rooms  hail  been  adjoining,  and  I 
could  vouch  for  his  sleejjing  and  ilrcaming  in  pure  Si.unese  ;  that 
he  talked  in  his  sleep."  This  set  them  into  (juite  a  loud  laugh. 
He  asked  wliat  rel.itionshi])  there  was  between  the  young  gen- 
tlemen with  me  .md  myself.  I  told  him.  lie  then  wished  tc 
know  if  they  thoroughly  appreciateil  the  biiietlts  of  travelling 
with  an  experienced  man  like  myself.  1  told  him  :  "  I  coukl 
hardlv  answer ;  that  we  had  in  our  country  an  adage  which  was 
that  '  V'oung  folks  thought  old  folks  fools,  but  that  old  ones  knew 
the  young  oiu-s  to  be  so.'"'  "  \'er)- good  !  "  he  said.  "  we  have 
the  same  in  .Siamese,"  and  then  repe.ited  it,  at  the  same  time 
turning  his  chair  •itpiarei)'  to  uiine  as  if  to  assure'  me  our  audience 
was  not  at  an  end.  "'  Mut,"  he  continued,  "how  do  )(iu  find  the 
young  gentlemen  as  fellow-travellers?"  I  replied:  "  1  wished  to 
retain  the  feelings  and  .aspirations  of  youth  as  long  .is  po-.sible, 
.and  to  ihat  iiid  preferred  to  .associate  with  tlu'  \i>ung  r.uherthan 
the  (till. "  lie  s.iid  :  '"That  w.is  a  most  e.xceilint  idea — that  the 
j'oung  should  seek  the  coinp.inioiiship  of  the  old.  while  the  olil 
should  mingle  with  the  young:  th.it  the  older  ones  would  teach 
by  ex.unple  and  prcct'pl,  wliiK'  tluy  would  iinbibi' lessons  from 
the  lu'arts  of  the  othcis."  lie  wishid  to  know  our  pi, ins  for  our 
continued  voy.igi'  ,ind  how  long  we  would  yet  be  from  lionie.  I 
told  him  I  was  an  .Americ.m  sovereign,  .iml  .is  such  kept  m\  self 
untr.immelled  in  ni)'  movements,  and  iiermilted  n.itun'  \\\\i\  cli- 
m.itic  laws  alone  to  control  my  actions,  lie  w.is  amused  ,it  my 
sovereignty,  .and  >;aid  .a  good  deal  which  the  I'rince  tr.msKited,  but 
which  I  cannot  repeat,  except  that  In-  hoped  tli.i?  I  would 
be.ir  b.ick  to  my  own  land  benefits  and  improved  health.  Hut 
that  m\- sovereignt)' had  to  bend  to  tlu-  will  of  I  lini  who  gov- 
erned .ill.  lie  wislied  to  know  if  I  was  tr.ivelling  merely  for  pUas- 
ure,  or  if  I  intin<led,  asm. my  did,  to  write  of  wh.it  I  s.iw.  I  told 
him  tli.it  I  had  proved  the  motto,  "  Une.isy  lies  tlu'  he. id  that 
wears  a  crowi.  "  ;  that  I  h.id  boiue  tin-  burdens  without  enjoying 
the  i)le.isures;  I  li.id  felt  the  thorns  without  shining  in  tin  jewels 
which  .1  crown  |)ossessed,  .md  was  tr.ivelling  for  rest  aiul  healtli. 
He  replied  he  had  heard  I  had  for  many  ye.irs  governed  a  great 
city,  and  that  I  was  fortunate  in  being  able  to  l,iy  down  its 
cares.  I  replied  :  "  If  your  m.ijesty  will  forgive  my  presumption, 
1  would  say  that  I  h.id  he.ud  that  the  King  of  Si.im  worked 
too  h.ird  and  .itten  led  to  m.iiiy  details  which  responsible  men 
might  perform."  Col.  Ciiild  lure  rem. irked  th.it  his  Ma- 
jesty   was    oni;  who    thought    th.it    the    throne    was    a    public 


r.    a' 


TJIK  KIXG'S  COXI'ERSATIO.W 


M3 


trust.         The    kiii^,^    said:    "Yes,    it    is    ilic    duty   of    tliose    in 
power  to  make  tlieir   pe<iplo  happy."   I   replied  :  "  lUit  wlien  a 
trustee  breaks  liimself  down   lie  does  a  wrori^  to  his  trust  ;  that  1 
wished   to   rL]iort   to  my  countrymen   that    the  monarch    whose 
ortler  liad  ^'une  forth  that  no  one  born   in  his  rci<;n  shou!<l  be  a 
slave,  and  who  was  c;.)in<^  his  best  for  his  peojile,  was  at  tiie  same 
time  conservin;^  his  liealth."   "Then  )'ou  do  write,  do  you  ?"  siiid 
the  kin<^'.     "Only  for  a  couple  of  newspapers."      lie  <|uickly  said : 
"  What   you   write  of    -,iam    I   ho])e    will    bi;    imi)artial."      I    told 
him  "th.it  when   I   looked  into  the   Siamese  sky.  with  its  ever- 
smiliuj^  hues  of  soft  blue,  its  sunsets  of  pearly  white,  rhan<^Mng 
and    nieltiui^   into  tints  found  elsewiiere  onl)-  in  the  inside  of  a 
shill,  1    fe.u'ed   I   would  be  in  d.iiiLjer  of  tinting  my  picture  with 
too  much  rose."     The  com])liment   scemid  to  please,  for  he  had 
just  before  m.ule  a  motion  ;is  if  to  terminate  the  audience,  but  he 
sat   liack,  and  .isked  wh.it   I   tl)ou;^ht   of  .Siam.      I   told  him  that 
what   .Si.im    needed   most    w.is   roails  ;    th.it   she  h.id   none,   .md, 
therefore,  I  could  not  see  much  of  the  (.ountry;  and  then  there 
were  no  stt;amer  lines  on  tlie  river.      He  tlien  enterni  into  tjuile 
a  t.ilk  with  the  I'rince  as  to  the  possibility  of  scndiiv^  us  iii>  on  a 
royal  b.iri^'f.      Hut,  as  I  before  stated,  this  could  noi  nois-  be.     lb- 
then  said  :  "  Hut  you  have  seen  Han<;kok.      How  do  j-ou  like  it?" 
I    replied   that    we   h.id   a   nation. il  air  c.iUed  "  \'.iukee   DootUe." 
Th.it  "  N'.mki  e  Doodle  went  to  town,  but  coii'l  not  sii   it  for  the 
houses!  '      The   I'rince  did  not  catch  what  I  -lid,  and  .isked  me 
to  repiMt.     "  .Ail,  \is.  V.mkei'  Doodle,"  s.iui  the  kinij.  tor^ettin*^ 
himself  and   spe.ikin;,;  in    I".nL,'lish.      1    then  continued  ;   "  I   could 
hardly  see  the  town  of   H.mL^kok  for  the  m.iLjnitHent  trees,  which 
end)owered   it   in   siuh  delicious  sh.itk'  th.it   from    W'.it-Se-Kat    I 
felt   I  w.is  lookin:^  down  ui)on  ranles  of  roy.il  "^Mrdensand  splendid 
p.il.ices  and   j^ilded  doiri  -."     The  kini^  said   Ik-  was  \  ery  ^l.id   I 
VMS  plc.ised  with  wh.it  I  h.ul  seen  of  Siam.  and  p.iused.     I  replied 
th.it   I  W.IS  niore  th.iii  ple.iscd  ;  tli.it  il  w.is  the  realization  of  my 
e.irly  dre.ims  of  rich  orii-nt.ilism  .md    tropic.il    luxuriance!      lie 
said:  "The  climate  and  ^oil   of  Si.im  were   iiiiieipi.illeii,  and,  coii- 
sidcrin^  the  time  she  ha<l  l)eeu  improving.  ^    ii.id  tlone  well  ;  th.it 
altlhvuj^h   .'\mericu  was  yet  younger,  she  h-wl  in  lu:r  very  infancy 
educated  pivipK;  from   all  lands,  and  could  be  c.illed  old  even  m 
her  childhood      but    .Si.im    had    to    !)uild    herself    up,  her  people 
beini;;  ma»le  uj)  from  an  unediic.itid.  old  I, mil,  .md  was,  therefore, 
youni,'  in  her  .i^c."     I  replied  :  "  Hut  your  Majesty  has  touched  it 
with  your  wMiid.  and  y<MJ;r  land  ha- w  onilerfully  impro\'e(l  uniKr 
your  reij^u."     The  kin<T  did  n«>t  t.ilk  much  himselt.  but  seemed  to 
wish  til  pet  BiH  to  talk.     I  caimnt  recall  near  all  th.it  was  s.iid, 
but  we  were  cicmplimented  widi  an  audience  of  fully  half  an  hour 
— two  or  three  times  l<Miper  than  o»«al.     lie  finally  arose,  wishing 
us  a  proNjK-rous  voyaj^e  and  a  h.ipjn   return  to  our  homes.      He 
went  with  us  half-way  to  the  dof>r.  .md  ^'ave  me  two  cordi.il  shakes 


J  Hi 

.1  >  1 ' 

;^|P^ 

l     \\ 

,    U  I  Hji 

'  ! 

ti 


I 


144 


,•/  K.ic/-:  wini  Till-  SIX. 


of  the  hand  at  partint,'.  Col.  Chil'!  said  as  wc  went  nut  :  "  Vou 
dill  well,  Mr.  Harrison.  Vou  caught  the  kiu;^'."  I  must  confess 
he  (juite  cau^^ht  nic 

Me  i«  of  niciliuni  hcii:;ht.  of  very  j,'raceful  form,  admirably  set 
off  in  his  dark  sacque,  buttimed  close  up  t"  tiie  chin,  his  dark 
"pnnoon.L(,"  and  silk  stockings.  While  of  a  dit;nity  rarely  met  with, 
he  \ias  free  from  all  hauteur  or  stiffness,  hut  gentle  and  urban<;, 
and  was  tlic  rc.i'i/.ation  of  what  I  had  often  rrad  of  the  character- 
istics of  Oriental  i)otentates.  lie  is  34  years  oKl.  rathjr  ilark- 
yellowish  luitbrown  complexion,  black  mustache,  and  wore  no 
onlers  of  any  kind.  If  I  had  met  him  .is  a  traveller,  I  would  hav. 
set  him  tlown  as  a  man  having  wonderfully  eas\'  yet  very  dig- 
nified nianners.  He  Iws  many  wives,  and  his  first  and  second 
(|ueens  are  his  half-sisi<>rs.  A  few  years  ago  he  lost  by  drowning 
his  chief  <|ueen,  a  fu".'  sister  to  the  two  he  now  has.  The>-  were 
.ill  tiiree  full  sisters  of  Prince  Dev.iwongse.  the  present  Minister 
of  Foreign  Affairs.  His  marrying  his  half-sisters  is  from  the  cus- 
toms ol  the  land— that  no  one  can  ascend  the  throne  excep'.  a 
Celestial  prince,  and  the>e  cm  only  be  tho>e  born  ot  the  king  and 
a  princess.  No  womar.  is  a  princess  except  the  d.iuglUer  of  a 
king.  His  brothers  have  wives,  but  not  princesses.  In  fact 
they  .ue  not  strictly  married  to  their  wives.  This  is  to  prevent 
a  line  of  prince>.  The  son  of  .1  prince  not  being  the  offspring 
of  a  regular  marriage  is  not  himself  a  prince.  In  this  way 
there  can  be  no  long  line  of  hereilitary  nobility  to  intrigue 
for  the  throne.  The  succession  i>  fixed  b>-  the  king,  but  from 
ciist(jm  and  public  opinion  m.ist  be  from  the  Celestial  princes. 
When  we  backed  out  of  the  kings  presence,  the  boys  congratu- 
lated themsilves  that  they  got  out  of  the  room  without  a  stumble. 

Before  parting  with  Devawongsc  we  were  askeil  to  fix  a  time 
when  we  would  liine  with  him.  Being  told  to  suit  him'^elf,  he 
sent  us  invit.itions  for  the  next  day.  His  palace  is  within  the 
walled  town,  has  lofty,  cool  rooms,  tastily  but  not  richly  ilecorateil. 
The  menu  was  extensive  and  the  cooking  good.  The  dining- 
room  was  ileliciously  fragrant  from  white  jasmine  .md  a  tree 
flower  resembling  somewhat  a  tuberose,  but  fresher.  It  is  a  holy 
flower,  ami  used  to  decorate  shrines  and  altars  in  preference  to 
all  others.  The  guests  were  the  Celesti.d  Prince  Ongn.ii,  full 
brother  of  the  king  .md  the  highest  noblem.m  in  the  l.iiul  ;  Prince 
X.ireth,  half-brother  to  the  king  ;  Prince  Shwasti,aI>o  half-brother; 
and  several  noblemen  .md  officers  of  the  army.  The  wines  were 
good,  the  company  fine,  and.  with  no  restr.iint  upon  .iii)-,  the 
evening  lasted  from  7:30  to  1  1:30,  and  made  it  ilifTicult  for  me  to 
realize  that  wc  were  in  Siam,  a  far-off,  and,  as  we  had  sujjposed, 
half-barbarian  coiintr)-  ;  in  .1  company  of  gentlemen  who  would 
compare  f.ivor.ibly  for  eleg.mt  m. timers  ami  cultiv.iteil  convers.i- 
tion  and  apin-arance  with  the  Iiighest  in  .my  land.  "  Put  not 
your  trust  in  princes!"  but  certainly  i'rince  Devawongsc.  dimply 


SINGULAR  CHINESE  PROCESSION. 


»45 


my  fc11ow.voyni;or,  was  as  ]>olitc  to  mc  as  lie  promisL-<l  to  he,  and 
did  all  he  could  to  make  our  stay  in  Siam  pleasant,  and  seemed 
to  fcj^rct  we  were  compelled  to  hasten  on. 

His  brother  Suasti,  bein<;  minister  of  the  police,  reminds  mc  of 
a  thinv;  showing  tills  people  off  admirably.  A  chief  of  BaiiLjkoix 
police  seeing;  at  a  distance  one  policeman  leadint;  another,  sent 
for  him  to  know  why  he  was  thus  leadinj,'  his  fellow-olTicer.  "  Oh, 
my  chief,  that  w.is  all  rii;lit  ;  the  other  i)oliceman  is  blind,  cann<it 
sec  a  tiling.  I  was  le.ulinL;  him  to  liis  beat."  Anotlur  inst.mce 
of  refreshin;4  innocence  1  lieard  of;  During;  a  consider.ible  fire,  a 
lady  cai/ie  out  of  her  house  wit.li  a  box  of  very  Cfistiy  jewelry. 
Seeing  a  man  close  by,  sh  asked  if  he  was  a  policiiiiaii.  Heiniif 
toUl  he  H'as,  she  handi'd  liim  her  box  and  hurried  within  for 
some  more  valuables.  .Siic  has  not  since  been  al)le  to  learn  the 
number  of  iier  trusted  otiicer,  and  has  only  two  sets  of  br.icelets 
for  her  ankles. 

I  was  ple.ised  to  hear  of  a  thini,'  connected  with  Col.  Child 
which  maiii-  me  jiroud  of  his  .Southern  birth.  There  are  in  li.m;^- 
kok  some  Chin. mien  who  in  some  way  claim  the  ])rotection  of  our 
consul. ite.  One  of  these  came  to  or,r  minister  to  ^et  his  assist- 
tance  in  the  recovery  of  a  slave  who  hail  run  away.  The  Colonel 
told  him  his  country  had  not  long  since  j^one  through  a  nii;>;iity 
war  to  break  the  sjiackies  from  the  limbs  of  slaves,  and  he  would 

be  tl d  if  hewouUl  help  to  catch  any<uie's  sl.ive  unless  directly 

ordered  .-o  to  do  by  the  United  States  .State  Department. 

The  same  day  wliicli  j^ave  us  the  two  examples  of  L;ettincj 
rid  of  the  deail  also  gave  us  a  view  of  ,i  Chint  se  procession  in 
honor  of  some  fest.d  piM'ioil  which,  for  f.)ur  d;i\  s,  occupied  the 
tlumghts  of  the  almond-eyeil  C'elestials  of  this  place,  livery 
thing  Chinese  was  demorali/ed  ;  waiters  at  tlu'  hotels  would  barely 
serve  us.  Cooks  ami  servants  in  ])rivate  houses  were  utterly 
unreliable.  A  circus  come  to  town  could  not  more  thoroughly 
upset  an  American  village  than  did  t!iis  the  pig-t.iiled  8o,000  in 
Siam's  c.ipit.il.  The  procession  to  ik  over  an  hour  to  p.iss  a  given 
point.  John  Chinamati  w.is  in  his  most  elabor.ite  toggery.  Silk 
gowns  glistened  in  the  sun;  mantles  and  innumer.iMe  banners 
embroidered  in  silk  and  gold  glittered  and  tl.ished.  Chinese  wind 
instruments,  in  tone  resembling  a  b  igpii)e  ;  little  fiddles  with 
body  of  b.imboo  not  longer  tli.in  a  half-pint  cuj),  yt  t  atTording 
from  tlu  ir  two  or  three  strings  tones  to  reach  tiie  musical  ear  of 
a  Chinese  professor  ;  g<Migs  banging  and  whanging.  These  were 
in  b.mds  of  12,  and  these  bands  to  every  100  or  2ckj  feet, 
.111(1  jolK',  happ\',  i)rospi  rous  sons  of  China,  Some  of  th'.  em- 
blems borne  were  decididly  curious.  One  was  a  huge  dragon 
over  100  feet  long,  worming  and  squirming,  its  feet  being  legs  i>f 
men  whose  bodies  were  lost  in  its  .ibdomcii  ;  ])ri.lty  p.igodas  with 
bedizzeiied  girls  on  their  tops;  gre.it  pyr.imids  of  flowers,  in  the 
cups  of  some,  .1  lily  for  example,  were  little  re  '.I  Siamese  babies. 


^ 

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i 


146 


A  RACI-:  WITH  THE  SLW. 


some  not  over  tlircc  months  old,  but  fjcncrally  a  half  year. 
Thfsc  p  jor  little  things  were  perched  up  and  tossed  aloft  in  tlic 
b!.i/in^'  Min.  Mlt.  hdistcd  in  palanciuins  and  some  sitting'  >i|)on 
seats  eomposfd  of  si)car  heads  and  knives,  so  plaeicl  ,is  to  look  as 
if  thev  were  beinj;  impaled,  and  throu^di  their  cheeks,  nceks,  ears, 
or  arms  were  rnn  the  spikes  of  Ion},'  iron  sjjiars  carrieil  by  sev- 
er.d  nun.  Tluse  were  ^di.istl)-  sij^hts,  intended  to  represent  the 
c.iptiirin^'  of  some  horrilde  demons.  Hour  after  Imur  tlu>e  poor 
devils  would  be  borne  upcjn  men's  shoulders  with  these  iron 
spikes  ne.irly  as  lar^e  as  my  little  finj^'er,  some  strai^du  throu^jh 
tlicirchci  k-^,  and  held  l)etwei'n  the  clinched  jaws  to  prevent  .isnnicli 
as  pos-il»le  the  lacer.ition  b\  the  steel.  ( )iu;  fellow  --.it  iipi>ii  the 
bl.ides  of  knives — a  false  motion  would  have  sent  them  di'ep  into 
his  flesh  ;  a  lon;^'  spike  ran  throu^di  his  ear — a  sinj^le  jarring  motion 
wf)uld  hive  ^d\en  him  aj^ony.  For  ''ours  and  durin;^  three  days 
these  men  umkrwent  this  torture  .  the  hiiLje  j^MMlituMtioii  of  the 
Celestial  Inokers-on.  Tiiey  were  paiil  for  this  suffering;  and  were 
a  part  of  the  show,  and  John  wanted  the  value  of  his  money. 
The  kiiiL:  ordered  that  the  b.diy  part  of  the  Avwx  be  discontinued. 
Wily  John  C.'hin.iman  had  hired  Siamese  b.ibies,  thus  s.iviny  ids 
own  little  ones. 

C)ne  nii^dit  we  were  at  the  Princess  The.itre.  Like  .ill  buildinjTs 
for  spect.icul.ir  entertainments  in  the  l-'-.i-.t,  this  w.is  simjjly  of 
rou;.^li  boards,  and  resembled  the  interior  of  a  huj^'c  .American 
b.irn.  The  sta;4e  extends  cpiite  a  distance  into  the  bod)'  of  the 
house.  Aroiiiul  was  the  ])arterre  :  next  the  st;i^,'e  w.is  f;iven  up 
entirely  to  the  women  ;  behind  ;ind  over  aiul  all  .iround  were 
galleries  fur  men  on  one  siile,  for  women  on  the  Dther.  Tiiere 
were  at  least  tue  tinies  as  many  of  the  fair  ones  as  ol  the  sterner 
sex.  I'.ach  ^'eiitleiii.'.n,  bein;^'  the  husb.uul  of  tWD  or  more  wives 
and  the  owner  of  scver.d  h.indm.iids,  is  en.ibled  to  fdl  m.my  seals 
by  his  women  to  his  own  one.  The  women  were  in  some  parts 
of  the  house  in  full  dress  ;  and  like  the  full-dressed  in  our  own 
civilized  Kind,  wore  as  little  dress  as  possil)le.  No  dnubt,  like  our 
own  f.iir  ones,  thiy  km  when  concealment  be^'ins  to  beckon  for 
peerini:^.  .Some  of  the  l.idies  had  their  little  ones  from  niic  to 
five  or  six  yi.irs  old.  These,  too,  were  all  in  full  dn  >s  ;  th.it  is, 
a  couple  of  (.  trrini^s  aiul  anklits,  the  balance  made  u])  of  natun''s 
own  s,itin-browi\  cuticle.  These  little  fellows  r.m  around  anum;,' 
their  m.imin.is  .md  nurses,  and  enjoyed  tiiemselves  lui;,'ely.  In  ;i 
box  next  ours  was  a  rich  Chinese  with  his  son  of  three  or  fnur 
)-ears.  The  little  fellow  was  snujkin;^'  ,1  larf^e  cigar  .is  deliberatel) 
as  did  his  father. 

The  entire  troupe,  nuisicians  and  actors,  in  this  the  finest  the.i- 
tre ill  the  citv,  belong  to  the  projjrietor.  He  bought  them  when 
young,  ;ir.d  li.ul  tr.iined  them  finely.  All  are  womm  except  two 
clowns,  .md  some  of  them  very  pretty,  and  all  linely  formed. 
The  orchestra  was  large,  I  should  think  fully  50.      I  he  play  was 


S/AM/:SK  Tlfl'.A  TRE. 


'47 


a  mixt\irc  of  pantomime  ainl  (i|n-r,-i.  with  ;i  littK-  witty  off-liand 
c()lli>(|iii.il  |)iif(>iin;uKi-.  Tlic  actors  ^o  tliroiiL;ii  tlu  ir  part  gener- 
ally <>n  their  haiiui  hcs.  'Ihosc  acting;  the  parts  n(  slaves  when  niov- 
in^'  fmrn  one  part  of  the  sta^'e  to  another,  walk  on  their  kneis. 
All  were  exipiisitely  dressed  in  i>Ia/in;^  vestments,  hut  all  in 
pretty  naked  li-it.  Oh,  how  much  of  God's  best  and  mo-l  heaii- 
tilul  ^ifts  to  wiunan  slu:  iiides  when  ^he  covers  lu'r  feet.  A  well- 
turnctl  ;;nkle  ami  rosy  toes  would  i)c  such  an  addition  to  Worth's 
most  el.diorate  toilette.  Tlie  scenery  iloes  not.  as  with  u->,  chanj^e 
from  act  to  act  ;  hut  a  scene,  say  1 3  h)'  20  feit,  is  huni;  up  at  the 
rear  of  the  sta'^'e.  This  tells  the  loc.ility  and  su:^;^est->  the  role, 
.111(1  is  cliani;ed  when  the  act  chan;.;cs.  At  the  ind  of  each 
.icl  all  ;^o  off  the  sta^e  with  a  •.,'rand  fanf.iroiia<le  of  mu>ic. 
A  part  of  the  play  is  >uii;.,'  hy  the  orchestra,  e.idi  one  kei-pin^j 
time  to  their  weirds  with  naked  sticks.  To  this  the  actors 
|)eiforni  ill  pantomime.  More  expressive  pant(Mnimic  perform- 
ance I  never  saw  in  Italy.  Indeed,  some  of  the  motions  \ure 
too  realistic,  ,ind  some  of  the"  poetry  of  the  motions  was  injured 
!)\-  cert.iin  conlortioiial  [.jestiires  consideri'd  \\\  these  peo|)le  |)i  r- 
fect.  Mill,  t.iken  as  a  whole,  the  pla\'was  inl'mitely  -superior  to 
those  of  the  (hiiuse.  Tin;  di.iloijue  was  sustaineil  in  .1  natural 
\'oice,  .iiiil  judi^in^  toun  the  friipu  nt  hursts  of  l.iii'.'hli  r,  tlu;  jokes 
and  hits  wi  re  ,ipl  and  amu--in^'.  We  were  informed  tli.it  it  w.is 
(juite  .1-.  well  that  Mrs.  Child  and  another  forei;.;n  l.idy  of  our 
|),;rty  diil  not  understaiul  the  l.Mi;.4U.iL,'e,  for  the  ji'sts  were  not 
<piite  such  as  we  should  consider  (it  for  polite  e.irs.  The  music 
w.i^  to  my  e.ir  le.dlj'  prett)',  thouj^h  somewhat  monotonous.  i)ul 
with  toni  s  .md  cadences  vei)-  charmini,'.  <  >ne  instrument  w.is 
dvlicimis,  coiniiosed  of  a  l.ir^e  numher  of  ^^I.'ss  cui)s,  .md  pl.iyed 
upon  hy  a  soft  leather-covered  stick. 

We  were  fmced  to  K-.i\i-  Si.im  too  soon,  fo|-  India  w.is  hei  kon- 
in^' us,  .md  w  e  knew  w  e  must  not  f.iil  to  re.ich  Sue/  in  M.ircli. 
( )ur  first  and  second  d.iys  from  Si.im  to  .siiv^.ipore-  were  he.uitiful 
.md  };ave  us  delii^ht  when  we  w.itJied  the  sweet  sunsets,  so  dilfer- 
eiit  on  this  sea  from  ,iny  we  e\er  before  saw.  Theii'  was  iioiu  of 
the  ;,;ori;ious  red-puri)le,  )tllow,  .md  oranj^c,  and  ;.;old  of  our  ow  n 
unp.ir.iileled  .\meric.in  sunsets.  Hut,  on  tlu'  other  hand,  one 
sees  the  soft  pe.irl-white  of  the  sky,  meltinj^  into  an  oran|.;e\ellow 
so  delicate,  so  soft  and  evanescent,  that  one  almost  holds  his 
hre.itli  lest  it  ^'o  before  it  is  fixed  upon  the  eye;  then  this  l)lend- 
iui^  into  ,t  purple-rose,  as  soft  and  melting'  as  the  tints  of  ,1  be.iu- 
tilul  wom, Ill's  e.ir.  \'ou  turn  your  he, id  for  a  moment,  .md  .1 
li'^ht  ^au/y  cloud  h.is  llo.ited  by,  ami  has  become  a  web  of  pink 
ami  rose,  oi.iiv^e  ,ind  _\ellow,  and  violet  and  purple,  the  most 
ilelicate  of  these  sever.il  colors,  and  ch.m^iii;^'  .md  v.mishini,'  like 
the  tints  on  ,in  op.d's  breast,  or  the  dyes  in  .1  mother-of-pe.irl 
shell.  The  tints  a!iil  coiorini^,  while  moment. iril\'  distinct,  defineil 
.md  brilliant,  yet  v.mish  so  r.ipidly,  or  rather  melt  so  (piickly  into 
others,  tli.it  tl;e\-  pioiluce  the  effect  of  st)ftest  neutral  dyes. 


Il 

i 

i 

i 

llfi 

!I'' 

It 

|i 

r 

m. 

m 

\    Nil    '*■  ^ 


14^ 


A  RACE  WITH  rilF.  SUN. 


m 


\y 


A.i 


I II 


:.  ■( 


Wluii  wc  rcaclifd  tlic  parallel  of  I'oint  Caiiibotlia  a  heavy  sea 
was  mllinj,'  from  tlic  far  cast.  The  llaatf,  of  only  600  tons, 
n.ikid  like  a  craillc.  Our  250  cattlt.-.  tied  in  rows  ali.nj,'  the  open 
deck,  ^lid  and  fell  and  suffereil  badly,  aiul  we  three  passen^-ers 
p.i-ised  as  unpleasant  a  nijjht  as  I  ever  had  on  a  sea.  Ihere  was 
little  rest  and  scarcely  any  sleep.  The  third  daj-  was  overcast 
with  sliL,dit  r.iin.  At  noon  we  were  on  the  fourth  jiarallel,  and 
were  boundiiiL;  in  a  smoother  s<'a  toward  the  e(|u,itor.  When 
the  sun  went  down  and  the  black  ni^dit  set  in  we  saw  a  clearer 
liorizon  toward  the  east.  I  lay  on  the  deck  and  watched  the 
patches  of  brilliant  starry  sky  stcai  from  und'.-r  the  chjuds,  and 
before  the  moon  rose  there  was  over  me  the  wondrous  mass  of 
blazing;  suns  nowhere  seen  except  within  the  eipiatorial  re_i,'ions. 
The  milky  way  was  swallowed  up  in  the  fulness  of  starh'i^ht,  but 
athw.irt  the  zenith  was  the  mit;hty  belt  of  starry  worlds  lilinkin^ 
and  twinklini;  in  countless  mass.  To  the  M)ut)ieast  rose  Jupiter, 
fl.ishin^  in  blue  antl  diamond  (lame  so  brii^htl)-  tli.it  a  path  of  silver 
lay  between  him  and  us  along  the  .sea.  Then,  much  farther  to 
the  south,  came  another  lar}.'e  i)Ianct,  it,  too,  m.ikiii;j;  a  broad 
pathw.iy  of  lij.;ht  toward  our  sliij).  At  11:30  I  looked  three- 
(juarters  of  a  point  toward  the  east  of  our  stern,  and  coulil  ju>t 
see  the  north  star,  the  j^nnde  and  beacon  for  countless  millions  in 
the  northern  half  of  the  workl.  lie  w.is  hardly  as  hi^li  as  my 
head  above  the  horizon.  I  looked  to  the  south,  and  a  few  points 
westwartl  from  our  bow  the  threat  southern  cross,  seen  by  my 
lon^in^j  eyes  for  the  fust  time,  Inirst  into  view.  In  two  months 
and  a  few  days  I  will  have  seen  the  lii;lit  thr<in;^hout  63  years, 
yet  will  cojifess  to  an  intense  boyish  enlhusi.ism  when  I  thus 
looked  now  to  my  ri^ht  at  the  liijht  set  in  tin.-  sky  far  off  toward 
the  -outh  pole,  and  then  to  my  left,  aiul  there  huni;  the  one  over 
the  northern  pole — the  north  st.ir. — etern.d  be. icons  lij^hted  by 
the  one  mij^hty  Maker  and  Ruler  over  all  thiiiLjs,  anil  throut;h(Hit 
this  world's  mi^'hty  fli,i,dit  through  the  realms  of  etern.il  and 
boundless  space,  the  f^uides  and  leadinij  stars  of  countless  millions 
of  men  since  litjht  w.is  ordeied  ;  ami  will  yet  be  beacons  f(ir count- 
less nullions  more,  until  the  one  unknown  an<.l  unknowable  Ruler 
shall  put  out  the  lights,  and  measureless  space  shall  be  filled 
with  111'  aMireless  nothing. 

I  w. Itched  and  wonilere  i  in  intensest  awe — an  awe  too  deep  for 
dreams.  I  did  not  dream,  I  did  not  think.  I  c<nild  only  sit  a 
silent  nothing  in  the  midst  of  a  silent  immensity  of  all  things, 
s})reail  over  me  and  under  me  aiul  all  around  me;  around  ;iiul 
over  me  a  miglit)  maj)  of  eternity— eternity  of  space  and  eternity 
of  time.  Presently  a  deep  red  spot  crept  over  the  eastern  hori- 
zon, and  then  the  moon  spread  over  our  world  a  gentle  light. 
The  stars  paled,  and  soon  ne.irl\-  all  had  hidden  behind  the  veil 
of  light  spri'.ui  over  the  world  b\-  its  silver)-  s.itellite.  I  looked 
and  looked  again,  then  sighed  and  went — to  bed. 


;• 


CIIAni.K   XVI. 


,sIMiAI'(1Ki:— r.OTANIC.M,  (.AkhlA— A    SAII,    111  KCH'*  .1 1     1111 

MM. A  Ak(  iiiri;i.A(;()— ITS  i;.\(jiisi  ik  iikautv— 

CIIK  A(.()  1>1,AN1)S— Till';  KlilAlOK. 


lllo. 


Bay  of  fieiij^al,  near  Rangoon ^  Hunna/i,  /)ir.  21,  18S7. 

AflAIN  I  :iin  wiitiiiLj  wliilf  oil  tlu;  u  iiit;.  'I'liis  time  ,il)(>;ir(l  tlic 
^tc•.lIn■^llil)  Stttiiii/rii,  (iiu-  nf  ;i  line  which  sails  cviiy  \\\ihuN(l,iy 
from  Sin^MiJorc  to  (."alciitta,  stoppiiiL;  one  day  at  I'cnaii;^  and  four 
at  Rangoon.  Travellers  from  Chin. i  to  India  usually  continue  on 
till' ;^'re.it  mail  ships  to  ("olomho,  C"i-\-lon,  and,  after  seeini,'  well 
th.it  island  of  s])ice,  };o  to  Cileutt.i  l)y  another  ship,  callin;^'  .it 
M.idiMs.  We  expected  to  follow  the  be.iten  track  anil  t,d<e  the 
r.  vS.:  <  ).  steamer  on  Momlay.  I  made  the  present  dellection  for 
sever.d  re.isons;  I'irst,  we  .ire  desirous  of  h.nini;  a  peep  at  lUir- 
mah ;  ;md.  secoiully.  of  .^oin;^  throuL;h  southern  Iiuli.i.  Wi;  hope 
now,  afti  r  rmishiti<r  the  threat  tourist  routes  of  India,  lo  dr.ip 
down  from  Homh.iy  throu-^h  the  Decern  to  'liiticorin  ne.ir 
( '.ipi:  (ormorin,  and  over  to  Ceylon,  .md  tiuiue  direct  l_v  to  Suez. 
In  this  wa_\-  we -will  do  C'eylon  the  last  thint;  in  the  f.ir  I".,ist  ; 
thirdly,  we  found  we  were  in  the  middle  of  the  r.iiny  se.ison,  the 
clouds  emptxinL;  delui^es  two  or  three  times  a  ilay.  We  would 
proh.ihl)'  tliid  the  same  clim.itic  conditions  .imoni,'  the  cinn.iiiion- 
^roves  i.f  Ceyh'n,  where. IS  the  List  of  l-'ebru.iry  will  ])r'>l)al)ly 
^ive  di\-  we.itlur  ill  til, it  loc.ilit)' ;  ;ind  I.istly,  we  pined  t"  str.id- 
ille  the  iipi.itor,  which  w.is  impossiMe  if  wc  sailed  on  Mond.iy. 
Therefore  .ire  we  sle.imini,'  north  over  l)e.iiitiful  se.is  on  the  e.ist 
shore  of  the  l^iy  of  jiene.il,  hut  .it  .1  most  disj^ustiiv^dy  slow  p.ice. 

Arriviiv,;  .it  SinL;.tpore  from  Siam  the  mornin;^  of  the  ,S(h 
t^Thur^d.iy)  we  111. ule  ourselves  as  comfort. ihle  as  possible  with 
the  thermometer  hij^h  in  the  .'^o's,  ;iiul  with  precious  little  breeze 
blowini;.  In  the  afternoon  we  called  upmi  Major  Studer  loiir 
kinddiearti  d  I'liitonic  consul  I,  who  li.is  been  lure  17  ye.irs,  anil 
is  ,is  full  .if  inform. itiou  alxuil  this  loc.ilit\-  as  he  is  runnini; 
over  with  rheum. iti-^ni.  lie  was  sent  here  by  (ir.mt  and  li.is 
II. 't  been  r< moved  by  H.iy.iiii,  ,uid  is  thoroughly  s.itisfied  as  to 
the  short-^i;.;lite(lness  of  Coneress  in  not  iii.ikinL;  more  ample 
provision  Un  the  consular  service.  1  would  be,  too.  were  I  a 
consul  or  miiii--ter.  It  is  idle  to  s,iy  there  .are  plenty  at  home 
who  would   i;iidly   fill  their  pl.ices.      That    is    true,  for  what  is 

149 


i)Vt' 


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i'  u. 


MH 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


/. 


M/     ^W    ^Jb 

/ML//  4i   £^  M 


1.0 


I.I 


L4  1Z8 

150     ■■ 
|56 

U 
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114 


■  2.2 
2.0 


L25  111114   III1II.6 


6" 


JS 


'/ 


Photographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14SM 

(716)t72-4S03 


'5° 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUX. 


'i\ 


H,J 


there  around  whicli  the  average  politician  would  not  take? 
But  whether  the  administration  be  of  one  or  the  otlier  party,  tlic 
people  want  t;v  rd  service,  and  want  their  servants  in  all  coun- 
tries respected.  This  is  an  inipossibiIit>-  hero  in  the  East,  with 
our  consuls  living  as  they  do.  If  Congressmen  would 
stop  up  the  bung-hole  througii  which  the  national  treasury 
empties  itself  into  the  lap  of  monopoly,  thej-  would  not  have 
to  show  a  saving  at  the  spigot  for  the  purpose  of  deluding 
their  constituents. 

Singapore  is  a  pretty  town  on  the  soutliern  shore  of  the 
island  of  the  same  name,  which  is  almost  60  miles  in  circum- 
ference, and  is  separated  by  a  narrow  channel  from  Jahore, 
the  extreme  southern  land  of  the  Malayan  peninsula  and  of 
the  Asiatic  continent.  Approaching  the  town  one  sees  a  long 
line  of  two-storied,  colonnaded  hongs  or  business-hous'.\s,  part 
white  and  part  of  pale  blue.  Flanking  this  at  one  end  is  a  long 
esplanade  covered  with  fine  trees,  and  on  the  other  a  couple 
of  miles  of  docks  and  factories.  Behind  rise  hills  100  or  200 
feet  high.  On  one  of  these  are  the  long,  white  houses  of  parlia- 
ment, half  lost  in  verdure.  The  town  is  a  thriving  one,  doing 
a  large  business,  and  possesses  great  wealth,  much  of  which  is  in 
the  iianils  of  the  Chinese.  Tliese  people  are  the  Jews  of  the 
East — persevering,  indefatigable,  and  shrewd.  They  work  and 
make  money,  and  it  matters  not  whether  their  gains  be  large 
jr  small,  they  lay  by  s^mething.  They  get  the  highest  wages 
possible  to  them,  but  they  will  accept  any  wage  rather  than  be 
idle.  They  have  not  graduated  in  that  social  school  which 
teaches  that  there  is  a  dignity  in  labor  which  makes  it  more 
honorable  to  starve  or  go  in  rags  in  idleness  than  to  work  at  a 
]-)ay  deemed  insufificient.  The  result  is,  while  the  natives  in  many 
lands  are  strutting  with  gaunt  bellies,  John  is  soberly  at  work  and 
quietly  filling  his  purse.  Every  town  from  northern  Burniah 
south  and  tliroughout  the  vast  Indian  archipelago  has  already 
fallen,  or  is  fast  falling,  into  his  hantls.  Even  the  farms  and 
gardens  about  the  towns  are  becoming  his.  The  little  white  ants 
cat  up  the  houses  throughout  the  Eastern  tropics.  They  burrow 
into  the  heart  of  every  sill,  joist,  and  rafter.  They  leave  the  out- 
side untouched,  but  suddenly  the  house  tumbles  in  ;  the  timbers 
have  become  simple  shells.  The  Chinese  are  the  human  white 
ants  of  the  east.  They  burrow  or  live  in  the  light  or  in  the  dark, 
and  are  fast  eating  out  the  heart  and  substance  of  foundation, 
joist,  antl  framework  of  the  industrial  fabric  of  many  peo])le.  I 
do  not  like  John,  but  I  fear  I  am  nursing  a  great  admiration  for 
his  sturdy  qualities,  and  am  constantly  amused  by  the  quiet  way 
in  which  he  wins  in  the  battle  for  bread. 

When  the //(rr;A'drop]ied  her  anchor  in  port  on  the  8lh  slv.-  was 
immediately  boarded  by  boatmen  to  carry  us  and  our  traps  ashore. 
We  always  make  our  bargain  in  advance,  and  asked  how  much. 


TWILIGHT  AND  DA  \VN. 


151 


"One  dollar  and  a  half,"  said  a  stately  Indian  ;  "  a  dollar,"  said 
another ;  both  too  hij^h.  But  not  a  cent  would  the  dignified 
gentlemen  drop.  A  couple  of  Chinamen  stepped  up  and  quietly 
said  60  cents,  and  before  we  could  answer  had  our  bay<;age  on 
their  shoulders.  The  Indians  smiled  grimly,  and  said:  "China- 
men cheat  you,"  and  stalked  off  in  half-naked  dignity.  John  did 
try  to  get  some  more  from  us  at  the  hotel,  but  when  we  refused 
he  went  off  contented.  I  have  had  a  half-dozen  or  more  exam- 
ples of  this  kind.  They  are  the  cashiers,  clerks,  and  porters  of  all 
the  banks  and  great  houses  throughout  this  land,  and  are  found 
reliable  beyond  any  other  people.  I  do  not  like  them,  but  I  can- 
not help  admiring  them,  and  if  I  were  an  Oriental  I  would  fear 
them. 

The  island  of  Singapore  is  said  to  have  a  population  of  from 
160,000  to  200,000.  About  2,000  are  Europeans.  Of  the  remain- 
der, more  than  half  are  Chinese,  a  third  Malay,  the  balance  peo- 
ples from  different  parts  of  India,  Java,  and  other  islands.  The 
place  is  on  the  highway  from  Europe  to  China  through  the  Suez 
Canal,  and  has  since  the  opening  of  the  latter  become  of  great 
commercial  value.  The  little  rajahship  of  Jahorc  is  governed,  by 
grace  of  her  imperial  Majesty's  ministers,  by  a  "  sultan,"  who  be- 
longs to  England  body  and  soul,  and  is  holding  his  dominion  for 
its  absolute  dropping  into  England's  lap  whenever  she  may  deem 
it  for  her  gcod.  In  the  meantime  he  most  hospitably  receives 
all  Englishn.en  and  Americans  who  have  a  desire  to  air  their  heels 
before  a  monarch.  Of  all  the  tuft-hunters  I  know,  Americans  are 
the  worst.  O  Lord  !  how  the  smile  of  a  king  or  a  prince  docs 
melt  far  down  into  our  hearts  !  With  a  lord  we  are  happy,  but  a 
prince  wafts  us  off  into  the  seventh  heaven.  Like  all  the  balance, 
Johnny,  Willie,  and  I  would  have  gone  to  pay  our  court  to  the 
tawnj-  little  potentate,  but,  unfortunately,  he  was  up  in  Malacca. 

Jahore  and  Singapore  islands  are  going  quite  extensively  into 
coffee  planting.  The  Liberian  plant,  the  one  adopted,  is  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  of  shrubs.  It  has  the  densest  of  foliage,  and  is 
of  the  richest  green.  The  berry,  like  the  fig,  grows  from  the 
large  branches  directly,  and  not  from  the  twigs  of  the  coffee  tree. 
The  mass  of  pods  clustering  about  a  branch  is  wonderful.  Clove 
plantations,  another  of  the  industries  here,  are  very  beautiful. 
The  tree  is  conical,  with  pale-green,  waxy  leaves;  the  )-oung 
shoots,  however,  being  of  a  purple  pink,  at  a  little  distance  look  out 
as  if  abloom. 

The  morning  after  our  arrival  we  were  up  a  little  after  five.  A 
streak  of  light  had  appeared  in  the  east,  which  rapidly  extenileil 
into  a  mild  dawn,  and  before  half  of  the  hour  had  passed  it  was 
bright,  and  yet  the  sun  did  not  rise  until  after  si.\'.  I  cannot 
understand  why  the  tropical  twilight  is  so  short  and  the  dawn  so 
much  longer.  When  the  sun  sets  darkness,  like  an  exhalation 
from   the  earth,  immediately  spreads  its  panoply  over  all  nature. 


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15a 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


Scarcely  have  the  sun's  rays  departed  from  the  hills  before  the 
stars  peep  out,  and  but  for  their  light  all  would  be  in  a  few  min- 
utes pitchy  black.  Vet  the  next  morning  the  chickens  come  from 
their  roosts  a  half-hour  before  sunrise,  and  the  most  delicious 
time  of  the  day  is  opened.  The  same  causes  which  make  twilight 
short  should  do  the  like  for  the  dawn.  With  the  dawn  at  Singa- 
pore appear  the  horses  of  the  rich  Europeans,  led  for  exercise 
about  the  esplanade  by  their  half-naked  Malay  grooms.  Then 
come  Chinamen,  pacing  along  with  a  Newfoundland-dog  gait,  car- 
rying suspended  to  the  two  ends  of  bamboo  poles  baskets  of 
vegetables  for  market,  and  near  by  is  a  string  of  carts  drawn  by 
beautiful  hump-backed  oxen,  with  gray  or  tawny  hides,  horns 
pointed  almost  straight  up,  and  looking  at  us  with  eyes  as  soft  as 
those  of  a  fawn.  Tlie  drivers  of  these  carts  are  Clings,  from  the 
Madras  country ;  straight  as  North  American  Indians,  generally 
very  tall,  with  long,  black  hair,  and  skins  of  all  shades,  from  the 
very  dark-brown  to  a  sooty  black  ;  their  featuresare  generally  finely 
chiselled,  and  their  forms  superb.  How  their  black  skins,  well 
oiled,  shine  in  the  morning  sun  !  They  wear  only  a  skirt  about 
their  loins,  and  look  like  Apollos  cut  from  ebony.  They  are  the 
workers  upon  the  streets,  and  when  the  heat  of  noon  is  on 
them  their  sweating  shoulders  and  backs  look  as  if  they  had  been 
polished. 

Immediately  after  breakfast,  which  throughout  the  East  for  for- 
eigners is  about  nine  o'clock,  we  went  to  the  botanical  gardens, 
some  two  miles  out  of  town.  Our  road  was  through  cocoa-nut 
trees  and  orchards  of  mangoes.  The  gardens  were  a  delight  to  us, 
and  we  were  enabled  to  learn  the  names  of  many  beautiful  trees 
we  had  seen  but  were  not  able  to  designate.  The  garden  is 
large, — a  part  a  handsome  park,  and  a  part  devoted  to  experi- 
mental tree  and  vegetable  growing,  and  a  still  larger  part  yet  a 
tangled  mass  of  jungle.  I  wisii  I  could  properly  descr'be  the  trees 
and  flowers.  .  There  were  clumps  of  sago  palms,  their  mighty 
leaves  rattling  in  musical  measure  as  they  were  swayed  back  and 
forth  by  the  gentle  breeze.  The  Malay  wine-palm,  with  great 
leaves  of  most  delicate  green,  looked  cool  and  refreshing.  Wide- 
spreading  spathalodia,  clothed  in  amass  of  great  red-orange,  cup- 
like  flowers  ;  large  bushes,  not  labelled,  of  almost  solidly  growing 
flowers,  looking  like  huge  golden  chalices;  cocoa-nut  trees,  with 
a  hundred  nuts  hanging  under  their  spreading  fronds,  resembling 
huge  green  roc's  eggs;  and  by  their  side  the  slender  betel  trees, 
with  clusters  of  nuts  not  larger  than  bantam  eggs.  And  see 
yonder  low  spreading  tree,  not  25  feet  high,  and  yet  shading  100 
feet  of  soil.  Wliat  bright  leaves!  Ah,  it  is  the  gum  copal  from 
Africa.  Fine  trees  of  acacia  flamboyant,  their  leaves  as  beautiful 
as  the  most  delicate  ferns,  and  their  tops  a-blaze  in  golden  bloom. 
Ponds  of  victoria  regina,  its  leaves  resembling  mighty  platters 
spread  for  a  feast  of  Titans,  and  with  sweet-scented  pink  flowers 


BOTANICAL  GARDEN.     JOHN  BLAIR. 


153 


a  foot  across  for  titanic  boutoniiifer.es.  Ponds  of  pink  lotus,  ^nore 
bright  far  than  the  Hlies  which  Solomon  could  not  vie  with,  and 
near  by  a  dozen  coal-black  swans,  so  royally  proud  of  their  crim- 
son bills,  and  graceful  small  water-fowl,  which  would  shame  even 
an  English  sportsman  of  his  desire  to  kill.  But  how  the  bojs  did 
enjoy  the  hedges  of  wild  mimosa,  which  folded  its  leaves  under 
the  gentlest  touch.  They  carried  them  afar,  and  in  fancy  they 
could  see  the  sweet  coyness  of  a  dark  or  blue-eyed  girl  in  their 
far-off  homes.  Though  this  park  and  garden  were  so  interesting, 
yet,  when  we  at  one  time  got  lost,  and  had  to  make  our  way 
through  a  newly  cut  path  in  a  dense  chaparral,  we  could  not  help 
remembering  that  man-eating  tigers  swim  the  narrow  channel  be- 
hind the  island,  and  carry  off  one  or  more  hundred  natives  every 
year,  and  that  not  long  since  a  python,  28  feet  long,  was  killed  just 
after  he  had  swallowed  a  pig  weighing  130  pounds;  and,  worse 
yet,  that  we  were  in  the  belt  of  the  world  for  venomous  snakes, 
which  cause  the  death  of  over  150,000  people  every  year  in  India. 

Saturday  we  went  to  see  the  machine  shops  of  the  Tanjong 
Pagar  Dock  Company.  I  had  a  note  to  Capt.  John  Blair,  the 
general  manager  and  superintendent.  He  went  out  of  his  office 
with  us.  It  rained.  John  offered  a  part  of  his  umbrella.  "  Oh, 
don't  mind,  there  's  one  near,"  and,  sure  enough,  a  good-looking 
Indian  stepped  up  and  held  an  umbrella  over  him  as  he  walked. 
That  umbrella  is  always  ready  in  sunshine  or  rain,  and  the  pro- 
tected man  never  has  to  hoist  it.  The  captain  said  it  was  a  very 
part  of  himself.  I  informed  him  that  I  had  a  great  desire  to 
cross  the  equator,  but  could  not  spare  ten  days  to  go  to  Batavia, 
and  wished  to  hire  a  launch  to  take  us  down.  In  the  course  of  the 
conversation  England's  beneficial  rule  in  India  was  mentioned. 
"  And  yet,"  I  remarked,  "  she  keeps  her  next  neighbor  isle,  poor 
Ireland,  in  a  constant  ferment  and  a  blot  upon  her  escutcheon, 
and  all  because  the  Englishmen  could  not  or  would  not  compre- 
hend the  Irish  character."  To  my  surprise  and  delight  I  found  I 
had  at  last  met  a  Briton  who  was  a  Gladstone  man — the  first  one 
I  have  seen  since  we  sailed  from  Vancouver.  I  have  felt  my  way 
again  and  again,  but  every  Englishman,  Irishman,  and  Scotchman 
I  have  seen  in  the  East  either  was  or  pretended  to  be  an  intense 
Tory.  They  nearly  all  depend  more  or  less  upon  tlie  ruling  party 
at  home,  and  many  of  them  speak  of  Parnell  as  if  he  were  a  regular 
anarchist,  and  pronounce  Gladstone  an  infernal  scoundrel.  But 
burly,  handsome  John  lilair,  of  Alloa,  Clackmannanshire,  I  found 
to  be  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  England's  great  Liberal  leader; 
this  was  probably  the  secret  of  his  telling  me  to  be  ready  at 
Johnston's  pier  at  1 1  o'clock  Monday,  and  he  would  have  a  tug 
or  a  launch  there  for  us  to  run  to  the  equator. 

Sunday,  in  the  rain,  we  dro\'e  out  to  Major  Studer's  bungalow. 
He  lives  in  a  beautiful  spot,  shaded  with  tropical  verdure.  But 
the  air  was  as  heavy  as  it  is  in  a  glass  fernery.     Tropical  verdure 


1^ 


J-  :M 


\    i  >] 


154 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\:n 


is  a  glorious  thing,  but  I  begin  to  yearn  for  one  good  sniff  of 
frozen  win  !. 

At  1 1  o'clock  Moniiay,  with  our  satchels  and  some  hampers  of 
solids  and  fluids,  in  a  launch  40  feet  long,  with  three  Malay  sea- 
men,  two  Chinese  engineers,  and  all  under  a  marine  engineer,  Mr. 
Pfaderup,  a  Dane,  we  ste'mcd  from  Singapore  in  quest  of  that 
line  whicli  is  the  earth's  girdle,  and  yet  sits  so  loosely  about  her 
waist  that  it  continue iisly,  through  the  ages,  grows  bigger  and 
bigger  under  the  gentle  pressure.  I  know  this  will  appear  a 
wild-goose  chase,  or  worse.  ]iut  we  were  only  70  odd  miles  from 
the  equator.  We  wanted  to  put  those  70  odd  miles  behind  us, 
and  to  feel  we  were  on  the  southern  hemisphere.  Even  that 
sturdy  Scot,  John  ]}lair,  of  Alloa,  Clackmannanshire,  did  not  look 
at  me  as  if  he  thought  me  a  fool  when  I  named  my  longing.  He 
saw  our  youthful  fire,  and  became  himself  enthused,  and  gave  us 
a  launch. 

Across  the  Singapore  .strait,  and  spreading  over  the  sea  to  the 
south  and  to  the  east  of  Su'Matra,  lies  the  Rhio-Linga  archipelago. 
The  islands  of  Battam  and  Bintang,  both  quite  large,  lie  along 
the  strait.  Behind  these  arc  a  vast  number  of  small  islands,  said 
to  be  1,000,  of  all  sizes,  from  those  containing  several  thousand 
acres  down  to  tiny  ones  not  many  feet  in  diameter.  Some  of  the 
larger  ones  have  hills  several  hundred  feet  high  ;  the  smaller  ones 
are  comparativeh'  new  coral  structures.  After  passing  through  a 
group  of  these  there  comes  an  open  sea,  probably  15  miles  across, 
where  a  new  group  similar  to  those  at  the  north  lie  like  emerald 
gems  on  the  water,  and  run  down  to  and  about  Linga.  These 
all  belong  to  the  Dutch,  but  are  under  the  immediate  sway  of 
Sultan  Abooal  Rachman  and  his  father.  Rajah  Mohammed  Joe- 
seep.  They  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  the  king  of  Holland, 
who  has  at  Rhio  a  "  Resident,"  who  keeps  watch  and  ward  for 
his  king. 

Capt.  Blair  told  me  at  parting  that  we  might  not  get  much 
pleasure  from  our  introduction  to  the  equator,  but  that  we  would 
have  the  most  beautiful  sail  in  the  world.  But  even  this  left  me 
rather  unprepared  for  the  beauty  we  were  to  enjoy.  Our  launch 
was  swift.  The  day  was  glorious.  Fleecy  clouds  were  scattered 
over  the  heavens  from,  zenith  to  horizon — not  enough  to  shut  out 
the  soft  blue  sky,  but  every  few  moments  veiling  the  sun  and 
sheltering  us  from  his  too  hot  rays.  The  speed  of  our  craft  gave 
us  a  gentle  breeze,  and,  above  all,  we  were  in  the  highest  spirits. 
We  entered  the  archipelago  through  a  narrow  pass  opjjosite  Singa- 
pore, and  hour  after  hour  were  in  the  midst  of  scenes  of  surpass- 
ing loveliness.  Now  we  were  on  a  broad  lake  a  mile  in  diameter, 
mirroring  upon  its  placid  waters  the  islands  around.  These  were 
fringed  all  along  the  water's  edge  with  mangrove  trees  of  beauti- 
ful green,  their  roots  standing  in  the  water  six  to  ten  feet  high 
like  spider  legs  beneath  the  bodies  of  the  trees.     Thev  looked 


A  SAIL   THROUGH  RHIO-LINGA  ARCHIPELAGO.  155 


M 


like  monster  insects,  and  when  the  swell  on  the  glass-smooth 
water  from  our  little  craft  would  run  toward  them,  their  thousands 
of  long  legs  would  be  reflecteil,  and  would  bend  and  dance  upon 
the  mirrory  waves.  Above  and  behind  this  fringe  the  islands 
would  lift  50,  100,  or  200  feet,  clothed  in  dense  forests,  their  leafy 
tops  so  thick  ami  bunched  tiiat  they  looked  like  masses  of  emerald 
spun  and  then  woven  into  tufted  fabrics.  Some  tropical  travellers 
speak  of  the  sameness  of  the  green  about  the  equator,  and  declare 
it  greatly  inferior  to  the  variety  shown  in  northern  zones.  So  far 
I  have  not  found  this  well  founded — certainly  not  in  these  l,0OO 
islands.  There  was  every  tint,  from  pale  pea-green  to  one  that 
was  almost  black  in  its  wa.vy  depth  ;  from  the  ashy  dye  of  the 
olive  leaf  to  the  transparent  emerald  green  caught  from  the  breast 
of  a  breaking  sea  wave. 

From  the  fairy  lakes  there  would  apparently  be  no  outlet — all 
was  landlocked.  But  see  yonder  little  creek !  VVe  bend  into  it, 
and  scudding  along  a  narrow  green  sea-river,  lo  I  the  creek 
spreads,  and  there  before  us  lifts  a  conical  little  island,  with  a 
narrow  shore-line  of  golden  sands.  Then  into  another  lake  stud- 
ded with  little  islets,  some  barely  large  enough  to  furnish  foot- 
hold for  a  single  tree,  whose  spreading  branches  kiss  the  rippling 
waters  beneath.  One  could  almost  fancy  he  saw  a  boat  of 
mother-of-pearl  shell  moored  to  a  twig,  with  a  fairy  occupant 
sleeping  in  tlie  shade.  Now  and  then  we  passed  close  to  native 
villages  on  some  of  the  larger  islands,  with  low  pahn-walled  and 
palm-roofed  huts  lifteil  upon  bamboo  piles,  and  children  laughing 
and  romping  in  the  cocoa-nut  groves  in  which  the  village  would 
be  nestled,  livery  hut  in  this  land  is  lifted  up  as  a  protection 
against  venomous  serpents  and  carnivorous  beasts,  and  for  cool- 
ness. Tigers  swim  from  island  to  island,  and  have  a  tooth  for 
young  luunan  flesh. 

Sometimes  tlie  villages  were  piled  out  over  the  water  ;  about 
these,  tiny  fishing  canoes,  with  a  shining  native  in  each,  were  to 
be  seen  gliding  about  and  among  the  spidery  roots  of  the  man- 
grove trees,  through  which  the  rays  of  the  sun  never  pierce.  If 
it  be  not  the  loveliest  sail  in  the  world,  it  was  certainly  the  most 
so  of  any  I  hail  enjoyed.  The  Thousand  Islands  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  and  the  inland  sea  of  Japan  are  as  much  inferior  to 
this  as  they  are  superior  to  the  islands  in  the  upper  Mississippi. 

England  may  claim  to  hold  the  golden  land  of  India,  but  Hol- 
land holds  the  gems  of  the  sea. 

Rhio  we  found  a  very  pretty  place.  It  has  been  the  seat  of  a 
Resident  for  102  years,  and  the  houses  of  the  Dutch  inhabi- 
tants, perhaps  100  people,  have  an  air  of  sedate  comfort  not  seen 
in  any  other  place  we  have  visited.  I  had  a  letter  to  the  Resi- 
dent, Mr.  Halewijn,  from  the  Dutch  Consul-General  at  Singa- 
pore. In  our  flannel  shirts  we  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  call. 
But,  passing  by  his  house,  we  saw  him  in  his  grounds  in  light 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN". 


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^ 


dishabille.  We  thereupon  ventured  to  pjo  in  and  introduce  our- 
selves. We  were  received  most  cordially,  and  went  upon  the 
cool  veninda,  floored  with  liyht  Italian  marble  tiles.  Here  we 
partook  of  a  collation.  The  sun  dropped  behind  the  curtain  of 
the  west  and  darknesscamcsuddcniy  on,  when  servants  lighted  the 
swin<^int^  lamps  and  we  found  ourselves  in  one  of  the  most  charm- 
ing tropical  residences  one  can  conceive  of.  A  lofty  veranda,  50  to 
Co  feet  long  and,  say,  20  odd  deep.  Behind  this  a  salon  or  par- 
lor of  same  size,  and  separated  from  the  veranda  only  by  open 
columns.  Behind  this  the  bedrooms  and  the  offices,  all  on  one 
floor.  The  ceilings  were  lofty,  and  the  whole  floored  in  Italian 
marbles.  Nothing  can  exceed  it  for  chaste  and  cooling  design. 
We  were  most  cordially  invited  to  stay  and  dine,  but  wc  felt  we 
could  not  accept  in  the  garb  we  wore. 

Imagine  our  dismay  (that  is,  of  the  boys),  and  my  pleasure, 
when  Mis.,  Halewijn,  a  very  pretty  young  lady,  dressed  in  ele- 
gant evening  costume,  entered  and  was  introduced.  She  came 
to  honor  us,  but  I  suspect  was  dressed  for  a  handsome  young 
gentleman  from  Java,  who  shortly  called,  I  suppose  having  pre- 
viously left  his  card.  He  had  come  over  on  a  steamer  plying  to 
Singapore.  We  spent  a  most  charming  hour  and  left  with  re- 
gret, but  we  knew  dinnet  must  be  nearly  ready.  His  Excellency 
gave  me  photos  of  the  Sultan,  of  the  Rajah,  whose  palace  is  on 
a  small  island  a  half-mile  off  Rhio,  and  one  of  himself. 

We  slept  that  night  at  a  little  hotel  which  is  supported  by  the 
government,  for  travel  is  rare.  I  will  here  make  a  note  of  two 
things.  The  bread  was  nu  st  delicious — I  mentioned  it,  and  was 
told  the  "  Resident  "  had  given  orders  that  if  the  bread  of  the 
village  should  be  <at  any  time  bad  he  would  punish  the  baker. 
We  threw  up  our  hats  for  the  good-sense  of  the  Resident  of  his 
Majesty  of  Holland. 

The  other  point  is  this  :  At  Singapore  and  in  this  hotel  we  had 
no  top  sheets  on  the  beds.  No  one  sleeps  under  any  other  cover 
than  the  mosquito  bar;  but  lengthwise  on  the  bed  is  a  firm  bol- 
ster three  or  four  feet  long.  This  is  to  lay  the  leg  or  arm,  or 
both,  over,  so  as  to  permit  free  circulation  of  air  and  to  keep  the 
sleeper  cool.  It  is  a  Javanese-Dutch  invention,  and  is  called  a 
"  Dutch  wife."  A  strange  misnomer,  if  my  recollection  of  Dutch 
wives  be  not  at  fault.  For  I  certainly  never  saw  one  in  flesh  and 
blood  whose  contact  could  possibly  keep  a  bed-fellow  cool  in  hot 
weather.  Hut  whether  misnamed  or  not  I  cordially  commend 
the  inanimate  "  Dutch  wife  "  to  every  man  in  a  hot  climate. 

The  next  morning  very  early,  while  our  tanks  were  being  filled 
with  fresh  water — the  launch  could  not  use  that  of  the  sea — we 
strolled  about  the  town.  It  is  certainly  a  charming  place  for  one 
who  cares  not  for  contact  with  the  world,  to  spend  his  days  in, 
and  carried  me  back  in  memory  to  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  the 
Swiss  Family  Robinson.     Not  that  one  sees  no  people,  for  the 


>\f' 


WE  WERE  ON  THE  EQUATOR. 


157 


town  has  several  thousand  inhabitants — a  considerable  quarter 
is  built  out  over  the  sea  tenanted  exclusively  by  the  Chinese, — 
but  on  account  of  the  delicious  morning  atmosphere  and  the 
fine  tropical  fruits.  With  the  exception  of  the  Chinese  quarter 
the  bulk  of  the  town  is  of  scattered  houses  among  groves  of 
palm  and  mango  and  mangostine.  We  ate  mangoes  and  man- 
go Uines,  the  two  famed  fruits  of  the  East,  and  ripe  in  India 
proper  only  in  the  spring.  This  was  to  me  a  fine  sensation. 
I  am  a  great  lover  of  fruit,  and  would  go  far  to  taste  a  new 
and  good  one,  and  had  feared  I  should  not  have  a  chance  at 
these  two.  They  were  freshly  plucked,  and  yet  cool  from  the 
heavy  dew.  We  also  drank  the  cool  water  from  green  cocoa- 
nuts,  just  brought  down  from  their  nests  above.  This  was  not 
all  new  to  us,  but  it  was  the  first  experiment  with  one  we 
knew  was  just  gathered.  The  balmy  breeze  coming  in  from 
the  north  was  simply  perfect. 

We  were  soon  steaming  off  toward  the  Linga  group  of 
islands,  separated  from  those  of  Rhio  by  a  somewhat  open  sea 
of  15  to  20  miles.  The  day  was  again  fine.  Pretty  fish  were 
leaping  and  skipping  upon  the  waters,  which  were  barely  rip- 
pled ;  one  leaped  aboard.  The  northern  group  of  islands  began 
to  sink  below  the  horizon,  and  then  those  to  the  south  to  rise 
up  like  little  specks  in  the  air,  for  the  mirage  so  lifted  them 
that  they  seemed  to  float  several  feet  above  the  sea.  Out  of 
the  sea  they  would  grow  as  if  by  magic.  Then  they  would 
take  form  and  other  more  distant  ones  would  break  out  of  the 
shining,  far-off  waters.  In  three  hours  we  were  threading 
through  another  thousand  isles  and  living  over  again  the  de- 
lights of  the  day  before. 

About  one  o'clock  our  Malay  captain  pointed  to  an  island  to 
the  east  of  tiie  northern  end  of  Linga,  and  called  it  "  Bulu 
Bleeding,"  and  told  us  it  was  the  middle  of  the  world.  How 
I  wished  it  were  midnight.  Then  we  could  have  taken  note  of 
the  stars  in  the  zenith,  and  could  have  called  them  up  hereafter 
as  witnesses  of  this,  our  first  glide  upon  the  southern  hemisphere. 
Onward  we  sailed,  our  prow  still  pointed  to  the  south  pole,  only 
a  little  over  12,000  miles  away.  We  reached  a  point,  and  felt  that 
there,  in  our  frail  barge,  only  a  thickness  of  one  inch  of  oak  plank 
between  us  and  eternity,  we  were  upon  that  magic  line  which 
every  school-boy  knows  of,  which  countless  billions  of  human 
people  have  crossed,  and  yet  no  single  one  has  seen.  A  mighty 
belt,  25,000  miles  long,  of  intangible  breadth,  and  yet  so  powerful 
that  ocean  currents  and  vast  sea-rivers,  compared  with  which  the 
Amazon,  the  Mississippi,  and  the  Yang-tse  are  but  feeble  brooks, 
are  turned  and  bent  and  forced  to  change  their  courses  and  to  flow 
off  for  thousands  of  miles,  carrying  health  and  wealth,  warmth 
and  thaw,  to  the  far-off  frozen  continents  of  the  north  and  south. 
A  line — a  mere  intangible  creation  of  the  brain, — it  speaks  to  the 


It 


^j'i; 


IS8 


J  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


^J 


/  * 


sea,  and  says  in  whispered  tones:  "  Thus  far  and  no  farther  shalt 
thou  go  I  "and  its  whispered  words  arc  imperial  law,  and  arc 
obcved.  The  howlinc;  winds  rush  from  tiie  ic_\-  caves  of  the  poles, 
carrVini,'  death  upon  their  frozen  wings,  but  far  away  the  genie  of 
this'line  lifts  up  a  gossamer  web  so  light  that  HcrscheH's  mighty 
lens  could  not  reveal  a  single  one  of  its  meshes ;  and  yet,  before 
this  jjhantom  screen  the  storm-fiend  bows  his  head,  slinks  back 
into  his  frozen  lair,  and  the  borcan  storm  melts  into  a  gentle 
breeze.  A  zephyr  comes  from  the  sweet  zones  of  the  north  or  of 
the  south  ;  it  is  laden  with  the  breath  of  spicy  groves,  and  is 
redolent  with  the  sighs  of  fairies  bred  in  the  cup  of  the  honey- 
suckle and  fed  upon  petals  of  the  rose.  It  touches  this  phantom 
line  with  its  rosy-tipped  fingers,  and  is  hurled  back  in  frightful 
change,  and  is  sent  crashing  and  slaying  in  the  monster  fury  of 
cyclone  and  typhoon.  I'ar  away  in  tiie  dimness  of  my  boyhood 
days  I  had  dreamed  and  wondered  if  I  should  ever  stand  upon 
the  equator.  My  boyhood  has  long  since  been  spent  ;  my  man- 
hood is  fast  going  ;  but  at  last,  at  last  my  dream  is  reality  !  Wc 
stop  the  engine  and  tloat  ujion  the  gently  rip})Iing  sea  ;  wc  dream 
a  sweet  short  dream,  and  feel  that  our  barge  is  moored  to  the 
mighty  girdle  of  the. world.  Wc  dream  and  dream,  and  with  a 
sigh  change  our  course  and  tear  ourselves  away. 

We  bend  again  to  the  north.  We  leave  the  tall  mountain  of 
Linga  behind.  We  pass  close  to  a  more  than  usually  pretty 
island  of  a  few  hundred  acres  and  some  150  feet  high  in  its  loftiest 
point.  There  is  no  evidence  of  its  being  inhabited.  Wc  try  to 
land,  but  find  treacherous  coral  reefs  a  few  feet  below  the  surface 
at  each  point  we  attempt,  and  are  about  to  abandon  our  design, 
when  we  see  two  tiny  canoes  stealing  along  at  a  distance.  We 
steam  towards  them  and  call  them  to  us.  They  are  native  fisher- 
men from  an  island  near  bj',  and  pilot  us  to  a  point  where  wc  run 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  shore.  Then,  one  by  one,  wc,  with 
Haderup,  go  off  in  their  boats.  The  little  canoe  sank  to  within 
two  inches  of  the  surface  under  mj'  200  and  odd  pounds.  We  are 
told  the  island  has  no  name  and  no  inhabitants.  We  wander 
about  the  beach  gathering  beautiful  little  shells  and  bits  of  coral 
not  too  heavy  to  carry  home  as  souvenirs.  There  were  some  fine 
specimens  of  the  negro-head  or  brain  corals,  and  some  with  large 
branching  antlers.  We  had  to  leave  them;  they  were  too  heavy. 
Wc  amused  ourselves  watching  the  little  hermit-crabs  chasing 
about  with  shell-houses  over  them.  The  crab  finds  a  little  conch 
or  periwinkle-formed  shell  which  suits  his  fancy  ;  he  cats  the 
mussel  out  of  his  home  and  backs  himself  into  it,  tail  foremost, 
and  lives  there  the  balance  of  his  days,  or  until  he  grows  too  big 
for  his  stolen  house,  when  he  goes  out  to  steal  a  bigger  one. 
They  stick  their  feet  out  of  the  opening,  and  move  nearly  as  fast 
as  they  do  without  the  shell.  When  attacked  or  alarmed  they 
draw  in  their  bodies  and  barely  the  large  claws  are  visible.  When 


iy£:  CHRISTEN  AN  ISLAND. 


<59 


backed  in,  their  two  larj^e  claws  so  perfectly  fit  the  mouth  of  the 
shell  that  one  can  scarcely  ^ali/.e  that  it  was  not  made  for  its 
inmate  Some  of  these  slu.lls,  beini^  very  prctt\',  we  wanted  ;  we 
put  them  into  our  pockets;  the  little  robber  crabs,  finclin,i;  them- 
selves in  ilaiii^erous  quarters,  came  out  of  their  houses  and  crawled 
from  our  pockets.  Some  of  the  shells  so  tenanted  are  not  larger 
than  small  snail  shells,  others  are  as  large  as  an  a])ple. 

How  we  hated  to  tear  ourselves  away  from  this  charming  spot ! 
The  strand  was  only  a  few  yards  wide,  a  mass  of  coral  sands  and 
beautiful  shells,  and  broken  corals  of  various  sizes.  A  high 
bluff  lifted  from  this,  a  part  of  it  of  purple  rocks,  of  considerable 
boldness;  lofty  trees  hung  down  from  the  bluffs.  Their  large 
branches  were  covered  with  several  varieties  of  orchids  and 
trailing  vines.  Low  palms  and  plants  with  huge  spikes  like  the 
aloe  made  the  jungle  almost  impenetrable.  We  d.ire  not  attempt 
to  penetrate  it  ;  we  knew  not  what  venomous  reptiles  might 
be  hiding  among  them.  Our  Malays  said  there  were  none.  A 
pretty  little  stream  trickled  down  the  bluff,  giving  us  cool,  pure 
water.  It,  however,  was  not  perennial,  but  flowed  only  in  the 
rainy  season;  otherwise  the  island  would  have  been  inhabited. 
We  ate  a  little  lunch  and  drank  to  loved  ones  on  the  other  side  of 
the  globe.  We  thought  it  probable  that  we  were  the  first  white 
men  whose  feet  had  ever  trod  this  island.  Why  not  take  posses- 
sion of  it  in  the  name  of  the  United  States?  Hut  we  had  no  flag. 
We  attempted  to  improvise  one.  We  cut  strips  of  red  and  blue 
paper  in  which  our  wine  and  beer  bottles  were  wrapped.  We 
pinned  these  to  a  large  sheet  of  white  paper,  but  we  could  not 
make  the  stars.  Luckily  I  had  in  my  satchel  a  piece  of  paper 
with  the  Chicago  seal  and  motto  printed  upon  it.  We  fastened 
it  to  our  flag.  But  this  was  hardly  Uncle  Sam's  ensign.  We 
resolved  this  should,  for  the  time  being  at  least,  be  the  Chicago 
flag.  We  fastened  it  to  a  tree  quite  securely.  Then  we  all  took 
a  pull  at  the  claret  bottle,  and  pouring  some  upon  the  soil,  called 
the  island  "Chicago,"  and  formally  took  possession  of  it  in  the 
name  of  our  own  ])roud  city.  To  seal  the  matter  we  fired  a 
volley  of  38  shot  from  our  two  revolvers  and  my  little  two- 
barrelled  Derringer.  We  left  the  flag.  Long  maj'  it  stick  to  the 
far-off  "  Chicago  "  near  the  equator  in  the  Rhio-Linga  archipel- 
ago !  We  were  then  paddled  aboard,  and  as  the  sun  was  hurrying 
toward  our  own  land  we  steamed  for  port  nearly  80  miles 
away.  We  drew  into  Rhio  for  water.  We  called  upon  the  Resi- 
dent for  a  moment,  and  told  him  we  had  named  one  of  his 
islands  after  our  own  proud  city.  He  was  as  much  pleased  as 
amused.  All  night  we  sailed,  not  among  the  islands,  but  the 
shorter  way,  followed  by  larger  craft  through  the  broader  straits. 
The  boys  lay  down  and  slept.  Mr.  Haderup  and  I  dozed  in  cat- 
naps, and  watched  the  stars.  There  was  no  moon,  and  the 
heavens  about  midnight  were  ablaze  with  stars.     The  clouds  all 


'     * 


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•  ^ 


J   M 


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\% 


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i\ 


If 


1 60 


A  RACE  WTTFI  TJ/E  SUN. 


disappeared.     TIic  pole-star  was  just  visible  on  the   horizon    at 

tile  north.     The  true  and  tlie  false  cross  rolled  around  in  tiieir 

little  circuit.-!  far  on  the  southern  horizon.     The  Maijellan  clouds 

were  seen  by  me  for  the  first  time — yellow  luminous  circles  of 

cloud-dust  far  to  the  south.     Orion  and  Sirius  rode   across  the 

zenith,  and  might)'  Jupiter  shone  forth  in  resplendent  brii^htness — 

large    and  brighter  than  a  full  moon.     It  was  a  glorious  night, 

following  two  glorious  tlays.     We  reached  the  pier  near  our  hotel 

at  5:  15,  just  as  the  dawn  broke  out  of  it.;  hiding-place  in  the  east. 

We  had  enjoyed  two  glorious  days  and  a  glorious  night.     We 

had  stood  over  the  equator.    The  boys  had  not  slid  down  upon  it, 

as  they  threatened  to  do.    But  all  three  of  us  had  been  filled  with 

fresh  enthusiasm.     Even  Mi.  Iladerup,  who  had  crossed  the  line 

many  a  time,  caught  the  contagio.i,  and  brought  us  his  photo  on 

the  ship  when  she  sailed.     In  the  forenoon  I   went  to  Captain 

Hlair's  ofTice  to  p,ay  for  our  pleasure.     He  refused  to  accept   a 

cent,  but  permitted  me  to  leave  a  small   sum  to  his  men.      He 

seemed  ver\  riuch  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  he  had  afforded  us,  and 

when  he  gave  my  hand  a  warm  grasp  v,ith  his  good-by,  he  said  : 

"  Stand  up  for  Gladstone."     "I  wili,"  I  replied,  "and  for  Parnell 

and  Ireland  too." 


CHAPTER    WU. 


*    h\ 


BUKMAII—I'.UIODAS— WORKING   ELEPHANTS— THE    IKKAWADDV 

RIVER— rAC.AlIN  WITH  (j.w)  rA'JUUAS- MAM  >AI,AV— 

EX()l'ISITE  EUH'TCr.   -THE    HL'KMEM.. 


Culiutla,  yanuary  I,  1888. 

We  sailed  the  afternoon  of  the  i.|Lh  of  December,  1887,  from 
Singapore,  for  Rangoon  in  Burmali.  Had  a  delightful  smooth  sea 
to  Pcnang,  at  the  northern  end  of  the  strait  of  Malacca,  where  we 
stopped  for  several  hours.  This  is  one  of  England's  colonies,  and 
an  important  point  both  for  national  and  commercial  purposes.  It 
is  on  an  island  some  40  odd  miles  in  circumference  with  a  popu- 
lation of  a  hundred  and  odd  thousand,  mostly  Chinese  and  Malays, 
a  few  thousand  Indians  and  100  or  200  Europeans.  We  vis- 
ited its  botanical  gardens  and  water-fall.  The  latter  is  very 
pretty  ;  a  good-sized  stream  coming  from  a  mountain  over  2,000 
feet  high  in  the  centre  of  the  island,  tumbles  several  hundred 
feet — about  200  being  in  three  cascades.  It  furnishes  the 
town  with  fair  water.  At  the  fall  we  saw  for  the  first  time  wild 
monkeys.  They  were  springing  from  bough  to  bough  on  tlie 
trees,  like  frisky  squirrels,  and  were  some  the  size  of  large  cats, 
others  as  large  as  good-sized  terriers.  After  playing  a  while  they 
would  stop,  and,  like  true  monkeys,  go  to  catching  fleas  from  e^ch 
other.  One  had  a  baby  in  her  arms  ;  this  did  not  prevent  htr 
leaping  10  to  20  feet. 

The  climb  of  2,200  feet  to  the  top  of  the  hills  was  well  paid  for 
by  the  magnificent  view.  The  strait  with  its  many  islands  and  the 
mainland  beyond  with  its  large  cocoa-nut  groves  and  mountain 
background  made  a  picture  of  unusual  beauty.  No  voyagciir 
should  miss  it.  The  weather  thence  continued  fine  and  the  sea 
smooth — about  as  warm  as  a  mild  May  day  in  Chicago. 

On  the  20th  we  anc'.ored  at  Rangoon,  the  capital  of  British  or 
lower  Burmah,  which  ull  into  England's  lap  in  1852.  At  that 
time  it  was  a  poor  place,  only  celebrated  for  its  great  pagoda.  It 
lies  on  the  Irrawaddy,  about  35  n,Ues  from  the  mouth  and  has 
doubled  its  population  several  times  within  the  past  35  years  ;  it 
is  the  great  shipping  port  of  the  two  Burmahs  ;  doing  a  trade  of 
nearly  $100,000,000  a  year.  In  rice  exportation  it  stands  to  the 
world  as  Odessa  did,  and  Chicago  does  in  wheat,  and  sent  abroad 
last  year  not  much  under  1,000,000  tons.     It  also  exports  vast 


4! 


m. 


r 


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•  i\ 


\     V, 


^ 


.  V\ 


l62 


A  RACE  WITH  7 HE  SUN. 


T 


quantities  of  "  kutcli,"  the  brown  dye  which  is  supposed  to  pre- 
serve nets  and  sails  from  rot.  This  dye  is  from  a  sort  of  gum 
obtained  by  boiHng  down  the  heart  wood  of  a  species  of  acacia. 
Hides,  teak  timber,  and  horns  are  also  exported  largely.  There 
are  about  400  Europeans  residing  here.  They  have  handsome 
bungalows  surrounded  by  large  grounds  ;  move  in  considerable 
style,  and  do  their  business  in  fine  houses.  Some  of  the  Chinese 
have  substantial  places  of  business.  The  remainder  of  the  town 
is  of  frail  light  frame  huts,  with  walls  of  plaited  bamboo,  and 
roofed  with  palm  thatch  or  leaf  shingling. 

The  first  thing  we  did  was  to  visit  the  Schway  Dagohr  Pyar, 
or  Golden  Pagoda.  This  is  one  of  the  most  sacred  of  the  ]^ud- 
dhist  monuments  and  shrines  of  Asia,  and  is  claimed  to  be  over 
2,000  years  old.  In  it  are  several  of  Buddha's  hairs  and  other 
relics,  and  under  its  foundations  are  said  to  be  vast  treasures 
deposited  in  ages  past  by  those  who  desired  to  obtain  immortal 
"  merit "  by  their  gifts  to  the  Buddhist  god.  Here  I  will  state 
that  a  "  pagoda,"  or  "  pyar,"  is  not  a  temple,  or  of  itself  a  place 
of  worship,  but  is  simply  an  offering  to  God.  It  is  promised  that 
whoever  erects  one  escapes  all  loathsome  transmigration  after 
death,  and  reaches  an  immortality  of  absolute  rest — a  species  of 
eternal  death  in  life  or  life  in  deatl;,  or  rather  a  tranquillity  so 
complete  that  its  serenity  I  cannot  separate  from  the  idea  of 
death.  The  mere  building  of  these  edifices  does  not  win  this 
ineffable  rest  or  condition  of  "  nirvana,"  but  it  prevents  any  deca- 
dence of  the  soul  after  death,  and  thus  enables  a  man  in  some 
near  future  existence,  by  a  life  of  purity,  to  obtain  the  condition. 
A  man  may  live  the  greater  portion  of  his  life  in  purity,  but  one 
or  more  backslidings  may  send  his  soul  after  his  death  into  some 
of  the  more  degraded  animals,  and  then  thousands  of  years  may 
be  passed  before  it  again  enters  a  human  being,  when  a  life  of 
piety  can  again  be  commenced.  All  cf  this  danger  is  avoided, 
by  building  a  proper  pyar.  This  induces  men  to  accumulate 
wealth  and  to  spend  it  all  in  one  of  these  pious  offerings.  The 
result  is  there  arc  thousands  upon  thousands  of  them  in  the  land. 
There  are  said  to  be  25,000  within  a  few  miles  of  the  Irrawaddy. 

The  Golden  Pagoda  of  Rangoon  stands  upon  a  hill  in  the  edge 
of  the  town.  About  170  feet  up  from  its  base,  the  hill  is  levelled 
of?  into  a  platform  800  feet  square.  In  the  centre  of  this  stands 
the  main  structure.  It  is  octagonal  at  its  base,  with  a  diameter  of 
over  450  feet.  This  runs  in,  by  a  succession  of  terraces  or  high 
steps,  a  hundred  cr  more  feet,  giving  it  a  bell-shape.  From  the 
shoulder  of  the  bell  springs  another  circular  member,  also  in  the 
bell  form,  but  more  steep  ;  then  another.  On  //  lifts  a  tall,  thin, 
four-sided  lantern,  on  which  rests  the  "  htce,"  or  open-work  metal- 
lic receptacle  for  sacred  mementos.  The  "  htee  "  is  surmounted 
by  a  half-open  metallic  umbrella.  The  whole  height  from  the 
platform  is  370  feet.     Around  the  base  are  56  small   pagodas 


THE  GREAT  PAGODA. 


163 


about  30  feet  high.  The  whole  of  the  main  structure  is  solid,  of 
well-burned  brick,  covered  over  with  cement  plaster,  and  gilded 
from  foundation  to  pinnacle.  The  upper  half  is  freshly  gilt,  the 
scaffolding  being  removed  while  we  were  there.  At  a  distance 
the  whole,  when  the  sun  is  sinking,  looks  like  a  mountain  of  gold. 
The  htee  is  said  to  be  of  solid  gold  and  studded  with  real  gems, 
and  was  erected  by  a  late  king  at  a  cost  of  $250,000. 

To  repair  an  ordinary  pagoda  does  not  work  "  merit  "  for  the 
one  making  the  repair,  but  the  merit  is  relegated  to  the  original 
founder.  But  any  repairs  to  this  pagoda,  and  to  three  others  m 
the  kingdom,  avail  for  "  merit  "  to  the  repairer.  The  result  is 
these  three  are  kept  in  good  condition.  Around  the  platform  are 
a  number  of  smaller  pagodas,  and  many  chapels  and  kyoungs 
or  temples  for  worship.  These  are  filled  with  statues  of  Ikiddha 
in  gilded  plaster  or  white  alabaster.  IMany  of  them  are  much 
larger  than  life.  The  kyoungs  arc  of  wood, — some  of  two  only, 
others  of  seven  stories.  These  latter  taper  inward  as  they  rise, 
each  story  receding  behind  the  one  below,  and  each  being  also  of 
lep'5  height  than  the  one  under  it.  They,  too,  arc  surmounted  by  a 
lantern-shaped  member  and  an  umbrella,  and  arc  a  mass  of  beau- 
tiful carvings — fringes  of  net  pattern,  scrolls  of  flower  pattern, 
rows  of  little  figures,  men,  animals,  and  birds,  ail  of  wood,  carved 
with  a  free  hand,  and  generally  very  graceful  in  spite  of  their 
grotesque  postures.  When  I  say  these  structures  are  often  seven 
stories  in  height,  I  refer  entirely  to  the  apparent  exterior  archi- 
tecture, for  within  they  are  open  from  top  to  bottom.  The 
kyoungs  invariably  have  a  pagoda  attachment,  either  of  the 
conical  form  and  of  brick  or  a  tall  wooden  building  with  the 
many  stories,  and  the  metallic  htee,  or  umbrella,  surmounting  the 
whole.  The  kyoungs  oftentimes  consist  of  many  buildings,  and 
are  a  species  of  monastery,  in  which  the  priesthood  live  and  devote 
themselves  to  study  and  holy  meditation.  A  pagoda,  however, 
may  have,  and  in  the  greater  number  of  cases,  has  no  kyoung 
attachments.  They  are  simply  and  purely  offerings,  and  fre- 
quently have  the  ashes  of  the  founder  buried  beneath  them  and 
occasionally  some  so-called  relics  of  Buddha  stored  in  the 
htee.  They  are  often  built  on  uninhabited  and  uninhabitable 
spots. 

Every  Burman  has  to  pass  through  the  priesthood.  High  and 
low,  rich  and  poor  must  don  the  "  yellow  robe,"  shave  the  head, 
and  live  upon  alms  during  a  more  or  less  lengthy  period  of  life, 
generally,  I  think,  three  years.  Even  kings  are  not  exempt. 
Little  yellow-robed  boys  are  constantly  seen  going  from  house  to 
house  with  their  rice-pots  in  quest  of  food  for  their  respective 
kyoungs.  These  are  novitiates  learning  their  humanities,  and  do  not 
generally  continue  in  the  order.  Some  however  remain  for  years  and 
many  for  life.  The  latter  escape  the  degradation  of  bestial  trans- 
migration, and  if  they  be  good  "  pohn-gyees"  (priests),  have  a  fair 


w 


,it 


164 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


M 


chance  of  soon  entering  upon  a  state  of  nirvana — that  is  to  say, 
blissful,  eternal  rest  or  conscious,  comtemplative  death.  After 
our  return  from  Mandalay  we  spent  several  hours  at  the  Golden 
Pyar,  now  resplendent  in  its  new  garment  of  gold.  So  thor- 
oughly well-proportioned  is  it,  that  at  first  one  does  not  realize  its 
vast  size  or  great  height.  The  view  from  it  is  very  fine.  The  city 
lies  nearly  veiled  in  tropical  trees,  and  immediately  around  is  a 
large  park  with  fine  drives  and  lakes  studded  with  pretty  islands. 
These  lakes  cover  many  acres  ;  are  irregular  in  shape  and  artificial 
in  construction.  They  were  made  long  since  by  throwing  dykes 
across  some  ravines,  and  arc  the  reservoirs  for  the  city,  furnishing 
an  abundant  supply  of  pure  water,  carried  in  pipes  and  available 
in  street  hydrants,  but  without  much  head. 

Early  the  next  day  after  our  first  arrival  in  the  city,  while  yet 
cool,  we  visited  one  of  the  decided  lions  of  the  city — the  work- 
ing elephant.  Formerly  these  were  very  numerous,  being  the 
hc-iivy  workers  in  timber-)-ards  and  great  saw-mills.  Machinery 
has  now  supplanted  uicm  in  ail  establishments  run  by  foreigners. 
In  each  of  the  native  mills,  however,  where  small  orders  arc  filled, 
two  of  the  noble  beasts  yet  perform  the  heavy  laborwhich  human 
hands  unassisted  could  scarcely  manage.  We  visited  some  of 
these  tlie  .second  time  on  our  return  from  up  country,  and  were 
greatly  interested.  The  elephants  draw  the  logs  many  of  them 
tliree  feet  in  diameter  and  30  to  40  feet  long,  from  the  river,  pile 
them  up  in  systematic  order,  and  when  they  are  needed  roil  them 
to  the  wa)S  and  assist  in  adjusting  them  for  the  saw.  Lumber  is 
not  here  sawed  into  boards,  but  the  slab  is  taken  off  antl  the  good 
stuff  left  in  square  timber  to  be  ripped  up  into  boards  where  con- 
sumed, oris  cut  into  scantling  or  studding.  This  is  done  both  for 
home  consumption  and  for  exportation.  After  the  log  is  thus  cut, 
the  elephant  goes  among  the  machinery,  takes  the  slabs  away,  and 
then  carries  the  good  timber  and  piles  it  up  or  lays  it  gently  upon 
the  ox-carts  to  be  hauled  off.  A  carpenter  while  wc  were  present 
wanted  lumber  from  a  particular  log  which  was  under  several 
others.  One  of  the  monsters  rolled  the  upper  logs  off  and  pushed 
the  chosen  stick  to  the  mill.  The  way  was  not  clear — the  log 
butted  against  the  others.  He  pushed  these  aside  and  guided  his 
piece  through  them  with  a  sagacity  almost  human.  His  stick 
became  wedged.  He  pushed  and  tugged  ;  it  would  not  budge,  but 
at  a  whispered  word  from  the  mahout  and  the  promise  of  a  bit 
of  nice  food  he  bent  to  it.  Still  it  stuck.  With  a  whistle  audible 
for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  he  got  on  his  knees,  straightened  out  his 
hind  legs,  and  put  his  whole  force  to  it.  He  was  successful.  We 
could  almost  read  his  satisfaction,  in  the  gentle  flaps  of  his  huge 
ears  and  the  graceful  curve  of  his  proboscis  as  he  put  it  up  to  the 
mounted  mahout,  asking  his  reward. 

Sticks,  over  two  feet  thick  and  20  feet  long  are  lifted  up  bodily 
upon  the  great  ivories,  and  are  then  carried  off  and  laid  upon  the 


SAGACIOUS  ELEPHANTS. 


i6s 


gangways  so  gently  as  not  to  make  a  jar.  One  stick  22  inches 
thick  and  22  feet  long  we  saw  carried  in  this  way.  In  carrying 
this  the  beast  had  a  path  not  three  feet  wide  among  masses 
of  loose  logs.  He  had  to  plant  his  fore-feet  upon  the  latter  and 
thus  walk  a  considerable  distance.  He  looked  as  if  he  were 
walking  upon  his  hind  legs.  The  cornei  of  a  frail  little  bamboo 
hut  stood  in  his  way.  He  lifted  the  log  over  the  roof,  and  bent 
his  body  so  that  his  sides  gently  scraped  the  corner  of  the  house 
and  did  not  shake  it.  A  hundredth  part  of  his  weight  would  have 
caused  it  to  topple  from  its  pile  foundation.  He  was  ordered  to 
carry  off  a  pile  of  4  x  6  pieces  10  to  15  feet  long.  He  ran  his  tusks 
under  quite  a  number.  The  mahout  told  him  that  was  not 
enough.  He  tried  again,  and  probably  doubled  his  load.  His 
driver  gave  him  a  fierce  prod  with  his  iron  hook  over  the  fore- 
head. With  a  shriek  of  rage  he  sent  his  ivories  under  the  pile  and 
threw  his  snout  over  the  top.  He  had  to  get  on  his  knees  to  get 
the  load  up.  It  was  a  decent  dray-load.  As  he  passed  us,  perched 
on  a  pile  of  logs,  we  moved  away,  for  we  thought  there  was 
blood  in  his  eye  and  that  he  might  dump  the  load  on  the  foreign- 
ers. But  when  he  came  back  he  stopped  before  us,  got  on  his 
knees,  bowed  three  times,  and  held  out  his  snout  to  us  for  a 
gratuity.  I  pitched  a  coin  to  the  mahout.  He  whispered  to  the 
beast  that  his  elephantship  would  get  a  part  of  it.  This  seemed 
satisfactory,  for  he  snuffed  up  a  pint  of  dust,  blew  it  over  his  big 
rump,  and  marched  off  for  a  bath  in  a  mud-hole  not  far  away. 
Each  native  mill  has  a  pair.  They  work  only  in  short  spells,  and 
take  their  rest  while  feeding  in  grass-grown  mud-ponds. 

In  Mandalay  we  saw  quite  a  number  belonging  to  the  English 
commissary  department.  They  were  formerly  King  Thebaw's. 
One  of  them  had  a  little  baby  only  34  inches  long.  The  mother 
was  chained  to  a  tree.  The  baby  toddled  to  us  and  held  out  his 
snout.  I  tried  to  catch  it.  He  gave  a  whistle.  I  feared  the  cow 
would  break  loose — she  seemed  so  uneasy  and  strained  so  at  her 
chain.  But  I  got  my  hand  on  the  little  fellow's  back  and 
scratched  it.     How    he   wriggled   with    pleasure !     The    mother 

When  we  started  off  the 
The  cow  blew  a 
whistle  that  made  us  hurry,  The  little  fellow  then  toddled  back 
and  took  a  pull  at  his  morning  bottle. 

On  the  steamer  going  to  Mandalay,  a  Mr.  Laccy,  superintend- 
ent of  the  great  Bombay  Timber  Company,  was  a  fellow  passen- 
ger. He  employs  600  elephants  drawing  teak  logs  to  the  creeks, 
several  hundred  miles  up  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Irrawaddy. 
He  has  been  here  many  years,  and  gave  me  several  curious 
anecdotes  showing  the  wonderful  sagacity  of  the  great  monsters. 
With  the  risk  of  being  prolix,  I  will  give  some  of  them,  which  he 
assured  me  were  true. 

A  mahout  (elephant  keeper)  was  addicted  to  the  use  of  opium. 


wriggled    with    pleasure  ! 
understood  the  thing  and  eased  up 
calf  wanted   more  rubbing  and   followed  us. 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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Orders  were  given  that  when  the  elepliant  trains  went  to  the 
market  village  for  supplies,  this  man  should  remain  at  an  out 
station  some  miles  away.  The  wily  fellow  had  a  long  talk  with 
his  elephant — tiiey  seem  to  understand  Burmese,— and  told  him 
to  go  to  town  and  get  him  some  opium.  Off  he  went  alone,  and, 
reaching  the  village,  tore  around  like  mad.  The  villagers  went  to 
the  trees.  The  elephant  nosed  around,  smelt  where  opium  was 
stored,  took  a  ball,  and  trotted  to  his  keeper.  This  was  done  a 
second  time,  when  the  foreman  gave  orders  to  the  opium  vendor 
that  a  small  piece  of  the  drug  should  be  given  the  beast  whenever 
he  came.  In  this  way  the  mahout  was  kept  on  very  short 
allowance ;  the  elephant  did  not  seem  to  comprehend  the 
necessity  of  getting  a  ball,  but  was  satisfied  with  a  small  bit. 

At  another  time  a  logging  camp  got  out  of  sugar.  It  was  near 
a  trail  along  which  a  pony  train  to  and  from  China  passed.  The 
mahouts  knew  a  train  was  near  at  hand  ;  one  of  them  explained 
to  his  brute  what  was  wanted,  and  sent  him  to  intercept  the 
train.  He  did  so,  scared  the  men  to  the  trees,  and  scattered  the 
loads  of  the  ponies.  The  elephant  found  some  sugar  baskets,  ate 
his  own  fill — they  are  very  fond  of  sweets, — and  carried  ofT  a 
basket  to  his  keeper. 

Each  elephant  has  his  individual  keeper,  but  when  they  go  into 
camp  at  close  of  day  they  are  sent  off  alone  to  the  jungles  for 
dry  wood,  and  never  fail  to  bring  tlie  proper  kind.  From  what  I 
saw  and  from  many  things  told  us.  I  am  persuaded  they  have 
decided  reasoning  qualities  and  are  not  simply  taught  tricks  by 
rote.  W'.  watciicd  tlie  performance  of  several  at  Rangoon  for 
two  or  three  hours,  and  saw  evidences  of  sagacity  far  surpassing 
the  little  tricks  done  in  the  menageries.  The  mahout  sits  on  a 
houdah  on  the  back  of  the  animal.  He  rarely  speaks  loud  enough 
for  one  to  hear  him  a  few  feet  off.  Mr.  Lacey  believes  the 
animals  understand  Burmese.  One  day  he  praised  one  of  the 
elephants  in  this  language.  The  animal  showed  evident  pleasure. 
He,  to  test  the  thing,  then  spoke  disparagingly  of  him.  The 
vain  monster  gave  such  unmistakable  signs  of  being  angry  that 
the  mahout  asked  Lacey  to  desist  to  prevent  danger.  He 
watched  closely  and  could  discover  no  sign  or  word  from  the 
mahout. 

It  was  on  the  night  of  the  22d  we  boarded  at  Rangoon  the  rail- 
road train  for  Promc,  several  hundred  miles  up  the  river,  but 
only  170  by  the  air-line  road.  The  first-  and  second-class  cars  are 
a  species  of  sleepers,  a  swinging  berth  being  let  down  over  the 
seats,  which  run  lengthwise.  Each  car  has  two  compartments, 
with  a  wash-room  attached,  and  holding  four  passengers.  The 
traveller  furnishes  his  own  bedding  and  towels.  The  first-class 
has  cushioned  seats;  the  second  not.  The  moon  was  bright  till 
midnight,  so  that  we  could  see  the  country  almost  as  well  as  by 
day.     Up  to  Promc  the  land  is  flat,  grows  great  quantities  of  rice, 


I  ERA  WADDY  RIVER. 


167 


and  has  good-sized  plantations  of  bananas,  and  many  scattered 
sugar-  or  toddy-palms.  At  seven,  the  22d,  we  took  a  steamer  for 
Mandalay,  up  river  300  miles.  The  river  resembles  the  lower 
Mississippi.  It  is  now  the  dry  season,  and  the  stream  is  nearly 
50  feet  lower  than  in  the  summer.  It  does  not  rain  in  Hurmah 
from  November  to  May,  and  the  dry  weather  changes  the  coun- 
tr>-  almost  as  perceptibly  as  the  winter's  frosts  do  with  us.  Half 
of  the  trees  on  the  hills,  which  run  down  to  the  river  much  as  on 
the  Ohio,  are  nearly  as  free  from  leaves  as  with  us  in  late  autumn, 
and  the  grass  was  dry  and  parched.  On  the  east  bank  rolling 
lands  run  back  many  miles.  These  look  as  if  they  would  produce 
nothing  ;  but  we  arc  told  tolerable  crops  could  be  grown  on  them. 
The  river  is  fringed  with  beautiful  trees — tamarind,  sacred  ban- 
yan, and  several  varieties  of  the  leguminous  family  of  great  beauty. 
The  stream  has  a  rapid  current  and  a  treacherous  channel,  which 
changes  so  often  that  native  pilots  are  taken  aboard  two  or  three 
times  a  day.  But  still  with  these,  so  rapid  arc  the  changes  that, 
the  steamers  dare  not  run  after  sunset,  even  when  the  moon  is  at 
its  brightest.  When  the  sun  sets  the  anchor  is  dropped,  and  is 
not  weighed  again  until  daybreak. 

We  had  been  led  to  expect  beautiful  scenery  along  the  river, 
but  were  disappointed.  The  hills  are  fine,  often  rising  to  the 
dignity  of  low  mountains,  but  the  foliage  was  so  sparse  and  the 
grasses  so  parched  that  we  could  not  call  the  scenery  even  good. 
To  the  people  of  lower  Burmah,  accustomed  to  the  almost  dead 
flats  of  the  delta  of  the  Irrawaddy,  the  upper  river  may  be  beau- 
tiful, but  not  to  us  who  have  seen  so  much  during  the  past  five 
months.  About  half-way  between  Prome  and  Mandalay  there  is 
a  stretch  of  country,  for  nearly  or  quite  100  miles,  which  is  almost 
desolate.  The  plains  to  the  east  are  broken  and  almost  as  bare 
of  trees  as  those  of  our  Rockv  Mountains.  W'hat  trees  do  grow 
are  low  and  hardly  green  enough  to  relieve  the  eye  as  it  looks 
over  the  yellow-brown  hills.  The  prettiest  part  of  this  tract  is 
where  there  is  an  almost  dense  growth  of  tree  cactus,  6  to  20 
feet  high  and  frequently  with  trunks  a  foot  thick.  They  were 
covered  with  leaves  of  bright  yellow,  and  resembled  huge,  beau- 
tifully branched  candelabra  with  burning  candles.  This  is  the 
region  of  oil  wells,  of  which  there  are  many.  One  feature  of  the 
picturesque,  however,  was  never  wanting — the  pagodas.  They 
were  always  in  sight,  and  oftentimes  scores  of  them  could  be  seen 
of  all  sizes,  from  20  feet  to  100  and  more  in  height.  Some  were 
in  ruins,  with  shrubs  and  trees  growing  out  of  their  debris; 
others  were  white  and  well  preserved,  with  gilded  umbrellas  on 
their  pinnacles  anr'  ornamentations  of  mirror  glass  flashing 
back  the  sun's  rays,  and  about  sunset  looking  like  light-houses; 
sometimes  they  were  on  little  elevations  in  the  plain,  then  were 
mounted  on  almost  inaccessible  hill-tops.  Some  were  single, 
others  were  in  groups.      Some  had  kyoung  attachments,  which 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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were  monasteries  in  the  neighborhood  of  villages  ;  others  were 
miles  away  from  any  habitation. 

At  Pagahn,  once  the  capital  of  the  kingdom,  on  a  space  along 
the  river  of  eight  miles,  by  two  miles  deep,  there  are  said  to  be 
9,999 ;  many  of  them  of  great  size  and  gilded  from  top  to  bot- 
tom. The  gilding,  however,  is  much  tarnished.  Several  here 
are  totally  different  from  the  ordinary  pattern,  having  the  ap- 
pearance of  noble  cruciform  cathedrals,  with  windows  and  great 
halls  within,  and  surmounted  by  lofty  domes  and  conical  spires. 
Both  on  our  upward  and  downward  voyages  we  anchored  op- 
posite  this  old  town.  It  was  a  strange  sight  to  look  upon, 
this  city  of  beautiful  buildings  in  every  stage  of  decay,  in 
which  no  living  people  dwell.  As  the  sun  dropped  down  its 
rays  were  caught  by  the  mirrors,  now  on  one  ^nd  then  on  another 
lofty  spire,  as  if  the  spirits  of  the  long  since  dead  were  revisiting 
the  scenes  of  their  pious  deeds.  After  nightfall,  when  the  nearly 
full  moon  lighted  the  whole  up  with  her  pale  face,  the  thing  was 
wonderfully  weird  and  touching. 

Centuries  have  gone  by  since  a  great  population  lived  close 
by.  Superstitions — not  cruel  and  revolting — whose  aliment  was 
a  beautiful  and  dreamy  philosophy,  caused  this  strange  profusion 
of  vain  offerings.  The  centuries  have  been  laid  by  with  those  of 
the  mighty  past,  and  the  descendants  of  the  builders  of  these 
edifices  are,  just  as  their  forefathers  were,  governed  by  a  faith 
sweet  in  theory,  b--  deadening  in  its  practical  results.  Their 
faculties,  naturally  bright  and  joyous,  have  been  numbed,  and 
their  energies  repressed  by  a  religious  philosophy  which  teaches 
that  a  life  of  dead  tranquillity  and  an  eternity  of  slothful  dreami- 
ness is  better  than  a  life  of  toil  and  progress  and  an  eternity  of 
active  joys  and  singing  delights. 

A  tradition  tells  that  an  old  prophecy  declared  that  if  10,000 
pagodas  should  be  erected  at  Pagahn,  it  and  the  ruling  dynasty 
would  be  eternal.  But  whenever  new  ones  were  built  and  a 
count  was  had,  it  invariably  turned  out  that  an  old  one  had 
crumbled  into  decay  for  every  new  one  erected.  The 
lO,oooth  pagoda  could  never  be  counted.  The  king  became 
alarmed.  He  thought  the  demons  had  conspired  against  the 
then  capital,  and  so  moved  away.  But  the  pagodas  remain, 
and  Pagahn  is,  to  the  Buddhist,  as  sacred  as  Jerusalem  is  to  the 
Christian.  By  the  way,  the  capital  of  Burmah  has  been  many 
times  changed.  When  I  was  a  boy  it  was  Ava.  Mindoon, 
Thebaw's  father,  29  years  ago,  conceived  his  capital  to  be  un- 
lucky ;  so  he  packed  up  and  moved  his  palace,  the  people,  and 
the  town  to  Mandalay,  and  to-day  there  is  nothing  to  show  that 
Ava  was  ever  a  city.  A  large  number  of  pagodas  are  about 
its  old  site,  but  that  is  all.  And  Mandalay  grew  in  27  years  to 
be  a  city  of  over  250,000  mhabitants. 

All   E  .ropeans,   friends  and   foes,  charge  the  Burmese  with 


BURMESE  MEN  AND  WOMEN. 


169 


being  among  the  laziest  of  men.  Their  long  adherence  to 
Buddhism  has  schooled  them  to  a  life  of  idleness — they  say,  of 
meditation.  Rut  meditation,  without  a  real,  living  object,  be- 
gets idleness.  Their  government  has  been  for  ages  one  of  selfish 
despotism.  Accumulation  invited  the  tax-gatherer.  Oriental 
taxation  has  always  been  another  name  for  extortion  and  rob- 
bery. Thrift  begat  extortion.  There  was  never  any  inducement 
for  thrift  except  the  hope  of  the  acquirement  of  enough  to  build 
a  pagoda.  To  conceal  wealth  enough  for  this  pious  object  was 
difificult  and  dangerous. 

Every  thing  conspired  to  make  the  people  live  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  passing  hour.  The  climate  is  so  genial  that  wants 
are  few.  A  paddy  field,  when  planted  requires  little  labor.  The 
lands  suited  to  rice  culture  are  very  fertile.  Tickle  the  soil  with 
a  plow — a  mere  single-toothed  harrow — and  it  is  ready  for  the 
seed.  Then  cover  it  with  water  and  nothing  more  is  needed 
until  the  harvest  begins.  The  Burmese  man  works  with  great 
energy  while  getting  his  crop  in.  Lazy  men  generally  do. 
After  that  is  done  he  passes  hi?  time  in  visiting  pagodas  and 
praying, — in  gossiping  with  his  neighbors  and  playing  chess.  A 
wide  strip  of  cotton  cloth  about  the  loins  is  his  every-day  dress. 
One  of  silk  and  a  bright  handkerchief  for  his  head  makes  him  an 
elegant  gentleman.  He  works  just  enough  to  get  these  and  his 
rice,  and  his  tasks  are  done. 

His  wife,  however,  is  industrious.  She  attends  the  shop,  gets 
the  meals,  and  does  fully  half  the  out-door  work,  leaving  the 
man  to  play  the  idler,  or  to  take  care  of  the  children.  She  is  not 
hidden,  as  in  most  Oriental  lands.  She  goes  about  town,  rules 
her  husband  and  the  household,  drives  the  best  bargains  when 
selling  the  produce  of  their  fields,  wears  of  evenings,  or  when 
visiting  religious  places,  gay-colored  silk  "tameins" — generally 
of  some  shade  of  red, — and  has  a  scarf  of  bright  yellow  figured- 
silk  over  her  shoulders ;  dresses  her  coal-black  hair  in  most  be- 
coming style,  rarely  failing  to  have  a  sprig  of  flowers  in  her 
chignon  ;  covers  her  arms  and  fingers  with  bracelets  and  rings, 
encircles  her  ankles  with  silver  anklets,  and  fills  her  ears  with 
gold  and  jewels.  With  the  poor  the^oA/is  brass,  and  the  jewels 
are  but  glass.  When  a  number  of  them  are  together  they  make 
a  gay  and  pretty  picture.  The  colors  used  by  a  single  individual 
do  not  seem  to  harmonize,  but  when  several  are  grouped  they 
make  a  most  harmonious  whole. 

The  women  are  far  from  being  ill-looking,  and  many  are  not 
only  pretty  but  really  beautiful.  They  do  not  fade  and  grow  old 
as  in  Japan  and  Siam,  but  continue  fair  when  fat  and  40.  When 
looking  into  their  full  faces  one  sees  decided  beauty.  The  pro- 
file, however,  is  defective.  They  all  have  the  Mongolian  cast  of 
{■"ic — high  cheek-bones,  short  noses,  and  flat  visage.  These  make 
a  bad  side  view.     They  are  all  self-possessed,  without  boldness, 


Mil 


;.Y 


■:V 


H' 


Ml 


ur 


f 


170 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


U 


easy  and  graceful  in  deportment,  without  either  coyness  or 
coquetry.  If  asked  how  I  can  form  an  opinion  on  so  short  an 
acquaintance,  I  reply  I  saw  many  women  at  the  various  pagodas 
visited,  in  the  shops  and  attending  the  bazaars,  and  have  forti- 
fied the  result  of  my  own  ohservations  by  information  gained 
from  men  and  women  who  have  resided  here  for  many  years. 
Europeans  have  opportunities  for  studying  this  people  not  given 
an)-wherc  else  in  the  East — for  the  intercourse  between  the  sexes 
is  quite  as  free  as  anywhere  in  Christendom. 

Marriage  is  simply  a  civil  contract,  dissolvable  at  will.  When 
dissolved  the  property  is  equally  divided  between  the  parties. 
Certain  forms  are  gone  through  before  the  eiders  and  the  knot  is 
untied.  Not  only  do  the  women  trade  and  attend  the  shops, 
manage  the  household,  and  do  light  field-work,  but  we  saw  squads 
of  them  sweeping  the  street  in  Mandalay.  In  going  up  and 
down  the  river  we  landed  at  several  towns  and  villages.  We, 
when  possible,  took  a  few  minutes'  run  through  the  little  towns. 
They  were  all  very  dusty  and  dingy.  The  houses  are  a  frame- 
work on  posts,  with  walls  of  plaited  bamboo  or  woven  palm. 
There  was  no  evidence  of.  any  luxury — a  few  flowers  in  pots  the 
only  attempt  at  ornamentation. 

When  the  steamer  reached  a  landing-place  we  would  hear  a 
plunge  and  a  splash  near  the  bow,  then  others  in  succession  made 
by  the  deck-hands  leaping  into  the  river  and  swimming  to  the 
shore  with  the  line,  and  when  we  pulled  out  the  rnan  left  on  shore 
to  let  go  the  line  invariably  swam  to  the  boat.  Then  the  brow  of 
the  high  bank  would  be  seen — bright  in  red,  white,  j-ellow,  and 
orange,  and  all  tints  of  these,  made  by  the  gay  garments  of  men 
and  women  gathered  to  see  the  boat.  A  woman's  dress  is  the 
"tamein,"  a  strip  of  cotton  or  silk  reaching  from  the  waist  to  the 
ankles.  This  is  wrapped  once  around  and  girded  at  the  waist. 
Around  llie  bust,  leaving  the  upper  part  bare,  is  a  strip  wrapped 
in  a  fold.  A  scarf  goes  over  one  shoulder,  falling  under  the  other 
arm,  and  caught.  This  can  be  spread  so  as  to  cover  both  shoul- 
ders. Ordinarily,  however,  one  of  the  shoulders,  arms,  and  the 
upper  bust  are  bare,  and  in  walking  the  "  tamein  "  parts  on  one 
side  so  as  to  slightly  expose  the  leg,  considerably  above  the  knee. 
In  Rangoon  many  of  the  native  ladies  wear  a  short  white  jacket, 
a  modern  innovation  borrowed  from  white  people. 

The  people  are  yellow,  tinged  down  to  quite  dark,  and  sometimes 
almost  black.  The  hair  is  long  and  glossy  on  men  and  women.  The 
men,  however,  of  the  coolie  class  cut  close,  or  else  shave  a  good 
part  of  the  head.  The  holes  for  earrings  in  the  woman's  ear  are 
large  enough  to  admit  a  thimble — she  sometimes  carries  her 
cheroot  in  it.  All  classes,  old  and  young,  smoke — ordinarily  a 
cheroot  filled  with  a  little  tobacco  mixed  with  certain  barks  and 
wood.  The  covering  is,  to  a  great  extent,  the  inner  shuck  of  In- 
dian corn  or  fibre  of  some  of  the  palms.     It  is  about  the  size  of  a 


z 

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S^l^ 


It'    j 


M AND  A  LAY.     PALACES. 


171 


common  candle.  The  women  smoke  these  so  much  that  their 
lips  curl  when  the  cigar  is  absent.  They  smoke  when  walking,  in 
the  shops,  and  attending  the  stores  of  the  bazaars.  They  are  very 
devout,  and  throughout  certain  days  and  about  sundown  of  every 
day  are  to  be  seen  kneeling  in  crowds  in  the  kyoungs  or  chapels. 

Large  numbers  of  cattle  are  reared  along  tlie  river,  and  many 
buffalo.  The  latter  do  the  heavy  plowing,  but  the  ox  is  used  for 
carts  and  cabs.  He  is  a  very  pretiy  animal,  small,  short-horned, 
and  with  a  pretty  hump.  A  ride  at  Mandalay  in  an  ox-cab  was 
enough  disagreeable  for  me  to  remember  the  rest  of  my  life.  The 
carriage  body  was  three  and  a  quarter  feet  wide,  four  feet  long, 
and  three  feet  high.  I  had  to  squat  down  in  this.  My  team  were 
good  movers,  and  trotted  at  a  good  rate  from  the  steamboat  to 
the  hotel  three  miles  away.  I  bore  it  without  swearing,  but  I 
prayed  most  fervently  that  we  should  reach  our  goal.  Each  ox 
at  Mandalay  wears  a  little  bell.  Pony  carriages  take  the  place  of 
these  at  Rangoon.  The  ponies  are  fine  little  fellows,  10  to 
14  hands  high,  and  move  with  fair  speed. 

Mandalay  grew  from  a  naked  plain  to  a  city  of  2  5o,cxx)  inhabi- 
tants in  less  than  30  years.  This  was  not  from  its  advantageous 
situation,  but  siipply  sprang  from  the  fiat  of  Mindoon,  the  king. 
He  ordered  the  place  to  be  a  city,  and  it  was.  Its  inhabitants 
paid  no  taxes,  and  to  a  large  extent  were  fed  upon  the  master's 
bounty,  at  the  expense  of  the  taxpayers  of  the  kingdom.  Min- 
doon laid  out  the  city  exactly  a  mile  and  an  eighth  square,  sur- 
rounded it  with  a  wall  30  feet  high,  prettily  crcnulatcd  and 
backed  by  earth  20  feet  thick;  outside  of  this  is  a  broad  esplan- 
ade and  a  moat  50  yards  wide,  deep,  full  of  fish,  and  supplying 
the  city  with  water.  In  the  centre  of  the  walled  city  he  placed 
his  palace,  enclosed  by  a  strong  stockade  of  teak  timber  and  a 
brick  wall  20  feet  high.  The  remainder  of  this  iiiner  city  was 
packed  with  buildings,  but  outside  of  the  moat  the  bulk  of  the 
people  lived  in  their  huts,  surrounded  by  gardens  covering  a  very 
large  area.  The  king  lavished  great  wealth  in  making  this  palace 
as  beautiful  as  Oriental  taste  could  suggest.  The  queen's  garden, 
at  the  south  end  of  the  palace  enclosure,  must  have  been  very 
beautiful  when  it  was  kept  fresh  and  green.  Two  or  three  acres 
contained  lotus  and  lily  ponds,  with  heavy  rock-work  and  gravelled 
walks.  The  ponds  had  islands  surmounted  by  kiosks,  beautifully 
carved,  and  pretty  bridges  springing  from  island  to  island.  In 
the  centre  was  a  great  bath  sunken  below  the  surface,  cemented 
to  resemble  marble,  surrounded  by  pillared  arcades  planned  by 
Italian  architects. 

The  palace  does  not  consist  of  one  large  building,  but  of  a  large 
number  of  wooden  structures,  30  to  40  feet  wide  by  50  to  60  in 
length.  They  are  rather  open  porticos  than  houses.  The  roofs 
are  supported  by  columns  eight  to  ten  feet  apart.  Apparently 
they  are  two  stories,  but  this  is  only  for  architectural  effect.     The 


,'; 


l\"f" 


'72 


./  KALE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


second  story  recedes  upon  the  first  some  eight  or  ten  feet,  and 
is  supported  as  the  first  is,  only  by  more  lofty  pillars  lifting  from 
the  floor  of  the  first  story.  Tlic  liouses  are,  therefore,  large 
vaulted  porticos,  30  to  40  feet  high,  divided  by  a  partition  running 
across  the  centre  and  surrounded  by  open  network  cut  from  metal 
or  wood.  The  low  cornices  of  the  two  stories  are  a  mass  of  wood- 
carving,  generally  very  prettily  executed.  The  entire  structure 
is  lifted  from  the  ground  about  eight  feet  upon  columns.  Some 
two  dozen  of  these  structures  were  for  the  immediate  use  of  the 
king  and  queen,  and  arc  a  mass  of  rich  carving  within  and  with- 
out,  and  are  gilded  from  top  to  bottom,  except  where  red  lacquer 
is  used  as  a  relief,  and  where  gems  are  used  for  ornamentation. 
These  gems  are  of  glass  in  imitation  of  diamonds,  rubies,  emeralds, 
and  sapphires. 

One  of  the  king's  edifices,  called  the  "Centre  of  the  \5v'  crse," 
is  apparently  seven  stories  high,  surmounted  by  an  obi'  struc- 
ture or  lantern  two  to  three  feet  in  diameter  and  30  odd  t  high. 
This  is  a  mass  of  mirror  glass  cut  into  gem  form  ;  on  top  is  the 
Buddhistic  umbrella.  Immediately  under  this  umbrella,  on  the 
main  floor,  is  the  throne,  in  a  vaulted  room  supported  by  columns 
70  feet  high.  All  columns  are  of  perfectly  straight  teak  timber.  The 
ceilings,  rafters,  partitions,  the  outer  roofs,  and  even  the  pillars 
beneath  the  houses,  are  gilded  and  covered  with  gem  ornamenta- 
tion, which  is  very  beautiful.  It  was  all  built  for  present  use,  and 
lacks  that  necessary  ingredient  of  architecture,  the  appearance  of 
permanency;  but,  with  all  the  lavish  richness  and  Oriental  ex- 
travagance, there  is  nothing  tawdry  or  out  of  keeping  with  true 
Oriental  taste.  The  buildings  used  by  the  attaches  of  the  court 
are  of  the  same  general  design,  but  are  colored  in  red  lacquer, 
without  either  gilt  or  gems. 

Many  of  the  pagodas  and  kyoungs  of  the  city  are  very  remark- 
able. The  Koo-thoo-daw  is  a  plain  but  perfectly  proportioned 
gilded  pagoda,  nearly  200  feet  high,  and  surrounded  by  500  small 
pagodas  or  shrines,  each  about  12  feet  square  and  30  high.  Each 
of  these  has  a  chapel  within,  containing  a  tablet  of  stone  four  feet 
high,  covered  with  extracts  from  the  most  sacred  of  Buddhist 
scriptures,  cut  in  delicate  letters.  The  gateway  through  the  wall 
which  surrounds  these  would  do  credit  to  any  architect  in  any 
age.  Not  far  from  this  on  a  huge  raised  platform  of  many  acres, 
is  the  Incomparable  Pagoda,  400  to  500  feet  square,  elevated 
by  terraced  stories,  seven  in  number,  to  the  height  of  170  feet :  at 
a  distance  it  looks,  in  its  plain  whiteness,  like  a  huge  wedding- 
cake.  It  encloses  a  vast  vaulted  hall,  with  lofty  ceilings,  sup- 
ported by  100  to  200  beautiful  columns,  70  feet  high.  It  contains 
a  vast  wealth  of  wood-carving  of  exquisite  workmanship.  The 
interior  is  entirely  of  gilt,  with  vermilion  relief.  The  lacquer- 
work  of  Burmah,  by  the  way,  is  inferior  only  to  that  of  Japan. 
The  shrine  of  this  pagoda,  containing  a  monster  Buddha,  is  gor- 
geously decorated. 


i 


BEAUTIFUL  EDIFICES. 


'73 


The  king's  throne  house, called  the  "Centre  of  the  Universe,"  is 
considered  by  the  Hurmese  the  cluf-d'aiivre  of  art.  Hut  to  nie 
the  true  gems  of  Mandalay  are  two  kyouiigs,  one  called  the  king's 
and  the  other  the  queen's  house  of  prayer.  They  are  nut  far 
from  the  Incomparable  Pagoda.  I  have  lost  the  leaf  fr.Jin  my 
note-book  in  which  I  had  measurements  taken  on  the  spot.  1  will 
try  to  describe  them  as  they  are  fixed  in  my  memory.  Imagine 
a  wooden  platform  raised  about  eight  feet  on  a  great  number  of 
gilded  wooden  pillars  about  20  inches  in  diameter.  This  platform 
is,  say,  50  by  150.  Across  one  end  is  a  two-story  pavilion,  30  by 
50  feet.  The  first  story  is  12  to  15  feet  at  the  caves.  The  roof 
is  a  bent  concave.  From  the  inner  line  of  this  roof  springs  the 
apparent  second  stor)-,  about  lo  feet  high,  with  a  concave  bent  roof 
running  up  to  a  large  roof-tree.  At  the  four  corners  of  eacli  roof 
lift  dolphin-shaped  ornaments  several  feet  high.  Midway  between 
these  is  a  sort  of  dormer  roof,  with  :i  tront,  a  species  of  broad 
.spear-head.  Under  the  caves  of  each  roof  is  a  frieze  in  carved  vine 
and  flower  pattern,  and  over  this  long  rows  of  pretty  little 
statuettes.  The  second  story  is  enclosed  solidly.  The  first  story 
is  enclosed  with  open  screens  of  network  pattern.  The  roof  of 
both  stories  is  supported  by  a  mass  of  columns  or  pillars  running 
from  the  main  or  only  floor  to  the  rafters.  Standing  with  its  end 
toward  and  behind  this  pavilion  is  another  similar  one,  united  to 
it  by  a  low  covered  colonnade,  and  behind  this,  also  united  to  it 
by  a  colonnade,  is  still  another  similar  pavilion,  except  that  it  has 
seven  stories,  each  story  less  receding  than  the  one  under  it  and 
of  less  height,  but  with  similar  ornamentation.  This  latter  is 
surrounded  by  a  tall,  oblong,  lantern-shaped  member,  and  on 
it  a  metallic  half-opened  umbrella.  The  whole  of  these  struc- 
tures are  of  exquisitely  carved  wood,  and  within  and  without 
gilded  from  platform  to  pinnacle,  and  studded  with  imitation 
jewels — diamonds,  rubies,  sapphires,  and  emeralds.  The  brackets, 
dentelli,  and  rafters  are  colored,  principally  in  vermilion  lacquer. 
The  seemingly  seven-story  building  contains  a  lofty  hall,  in  the 
centre  of  which  is  a  colossal  alabaster  Buddha,  surrounded  by  a 
shrine  of  great  richness.  The  carvings  in  and  about  one  of  these 
payars  are  very  elegant,  and  consists  of  hundreds,  if  not  thou- 
sands, of  little  statuettes  and  a  great  length  of  scrolls  and  friezes. 
Every  thing  is  gilded  and  jewelled,  except  just  enough  of  tinted 
lacquer  for  relief.  About  three  feet  at  the  lower  end  of  each 
column  is  painted  in  vermilion,  with  gilded  laccwork  uniting  the 
lower  member  with  the  upper  solidly  gilded  portion. 

I  cannot  imagine  any  thing  more  perfect  in  Oriental  exuberance 
than  one  of  these  sets  of  buildings.  I  am  not  sure  whether  it  is 
the  king's  or  the  queen's.  One  of  them  is  used  as  an  English 
chapel.  The  other,  like  the  majority  of  the  kyoungs  of  the  city, 
is  occupied  by  officers  of  the  English  army  as  quarters.  A  few 
are  left  to  the  natives  for  purpose  of  worship.  It  is  greatly  to 
the  credit  of  the  officers  that  they  are  careful  to  preserve  every 


■13 


!<■ 


\\ 


m  i 


Hi: 


174 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


•>; 


' 


III 


thing  as  much  as  possible.  The  palaces  and  kyoiin.:[s  are  par- 
titioncd  off  for  bedrr-onis,  and  the  officers'  mess-rooms  have 
thrones  and  exquisite  shrines  for  sideboards.  The  ruling  powers 
do  as  little  violence  as  possible  to  the  religious  prejudices  and 
superstitions  of  the  natives.  Absolute  tolerance  is  the  rule.  I 
understand  the  government  is  desirous  of  preserving  some  of  the 
more  beautiful  buildings  as  curios.  The  estimates  require  ^oo.ocxD 
rupees  to  place  them  in  good  condition,  and  loo.ooo  annually 
thereafter  to  maintain  them. 

We  visited,  just  before  sunset,  a  place  of  worship  distant  from 
the  arm)'  quarters.  It  was  an  elaborate  kyoung,  with  four  colon- 
naded approaches  several  hundred  feet  long,  leading  from  the  four 
surrounding  streets.  The  centre  shrine  and  build. ng  over  it, 
together  with  the  long  double  rows  of  columns  and  their  roofing, 
were  a  mass  of  imitation  jewels,  bits  of  mirror,  and  gilt.  This 
was  but  lately  erected,  and  indeed  is  not  yet  finished.  Hundreds 
of  men  and  women  were  worshipping  before  the  golden  Buddha, 
and  the  priests  kt  us  know  that  they  considered  it  a  thing  of 
magnificence.  We,  however,  found  it  tawdry  and  utterly  lacking 
in  art.  The  worship  in  Buddhist  temples  is  apparently  as  sincere 
and  quite  as  earnest  a^  in  any  Christian  church,  and  many  of  the 
ceremonies  very  touching.  I  recall  a  memorial  service  for  some 
dead  man  in  a  temple  at  Kioto,  Japan,  which  was  as  interesting 
and  full  of  feeling  as  any  thing  I  ever  witnessed.  One  has  to 
become  accustomed  to  the  peculiar  shout,  and  to  the  occasional 
striking  of  the  gong  and  sounding  of  a  bell.  The  intelligent 
religious  ideas  of  the  world  are  to  be  found  within  Christianity; 
but  there  is  much  genuine  piet}'  and  real  fervor  in  the  Buddhist 
church. 

W'e  send  missionaries  ic  convert  the  heathen  in  India,  China, 
Siam,  Japan,  and  Burmah.  In  all  of  these  countries  there  are 
large  colonies  of  Europeans  and  Americans.  The  missionaries 
preach  Jesus.  The  foreigners  at  the  same  hour  are  practising  the 
devil.  Everywhere  all  kinds  of  business  is  closed  during  the  race 
week,  and  our  good  people  bet  like  Portuguese,  and  very  many 
get  as  drunk  as  lords  and  swear  like  troopers.  I  do  not  mean 
that  all  do  this,  but  enough  do  to  leaven  the  whole  lump  in  the 
eyes  of  the  poor  benighted  iieathen.  The  missionary  in  the  pulpit 
tells  his  Chinese  or  Indian  audience  that  one  of  the  vices  is 
gambling,  and  that  this  is  r  sin  intolerable  within  the  Christian 
church.  Wliile  he  preaches  on  Sunday  every  billiard  hall  in  the 
city  is  being  patronized  by  foreigners,  who  have  to  take  a  "  peg  " 
(drink)  in  honor  of  each  fine  run.  And  in  the  clubs  games  of 
cards  are  being  played  in  quiet  rooms,  and  drinks  are  being 
brought  to  the  players  by  native  waiters,  who  take  tips,  and 
afterward  buy  candles  to  burn  before  the  shrine  of  their  own  god. 

Christmas-day  we  visited  the  many  beautiful  kyoungs  of  Man- 
dalay.     In  one,  a  part  of  a  regiment  was  holding  high  carnival. 


I  ' 


A  JOLLY  CHRISTMAS.     DACOITS. 


'75 


It  was  a  holiday,  and  considerable  license  was  permitted,  so  that 
the  boys,  so  far  away  from  their  homes,  could  celebrate  the  day 
our  Saviour  was  born.  How  the  boys  did  celebrate  !  They  sang 
in  every  brogue  known  from  Kerry  and  Cork  up  to  Dublin,  and 
in  every  dialect  from  York  to  Cornwall,  and  from  Glasgow  to  John 
o'Groat's  house.  Their  heads  were  as  full  of  grog  as  their  hearts 
were  of  devotion.  Some  came  out  of  their  barracks.  Their  eyes 
were  red  from  weeping  tears  of  joy  because  they  knew  the 
Redeemer  lived.  They  danced  in  remembrance  of  the  fact  that 
David  danced  before  the  ark  of  the  Lord  ;  they  reeled  and  leered 
from  intense  fervor,  and  talked  in  drunken  gibberish.  They  were 
drunk  in  joyous  frenzy,  because  of  the  brightness  the  Star  of 
Bethlehem  had  brought  to  the  world.  Ah  !  they  were  shining 
examples  of  the  blessing  handed  down  through  i, 800  years  to  the 
enlightened  sons  of  Europe. 

The  poor,  benighted  natives  car  point  to  these  as  living  evi- 
dences of  the  blessings  confc/red  when  a  pagan  is  converted  at 
the  cost  of  Slo,ooo  to  $20,cxX)  a  head.  Missionaries  are  needed 
throughout  the  East,  but  they  are  needed  most  to  convert  the 
Christians  of  the  East,  and  to  load  them  to  follow  the  path  trod- 
den by  the  Son  of  JMan.  The  examples  set  by  the.  foreigners 
undo  the  ;:^ood  the  pious  missionary  preaches  to  the  pagan.  A 
native  in  Rangoon  wanted  a  job  and  claimed  to  be  a  Christian. 
When   this  was  doubted   he   said  he   "  could  drink  brandy  now, 

and  could  say  God  d like  an   Englishman."     This  gave  his 

idea  of  what  a  Christian  could  do. 

I  doubt  if  Mandalay  long  retains  its  population.  Just  now  the 
army  supports  it.  But  when  it  departs  the  bulk  of  the  people 
must  go.  There  can  be  no  commerce  to  support  there  a  large 
city.  Burmah  will,  ultimately,  be  greatly  benefited  by  English 
rule,  but  it  will  be  at  the  expense  of  the  Burmese.  They  seem 
too  lazy  and  careless  to  hold  their  own  against  the  Chinese  and 
Indians  who  will  flock  to  the  land  when  it  becomes  quieted. 
Several  years  must  elapse  before  this  condition  can  be  brought 
about.  I  refer  to  upper  Burmah,  taken  two  years  ago  from  King 
Thebaw.  A  species  of  brigandage,  called  "  Dacoitism,"  is  rife 
throughout  the  land.  The  dacoits  are  poorly  armed,  and  cannot 
make  any  headway  against  the  well  armed  English  soldiery. 
But  the)-  kill  and  pillage  friends  and  foes  and  burn  down  the 
villages.  They  are  the  young  and  restless  men  who  have  no 
means  of  self-support,  and  take  this  means  of  avenging  them- 
selves upon  the  conquerors  and  of  gaining  the  livelihood  they 
are  too  lazy  to  earn  by  work.  When  pursued  they  scatter  and 
simply  appear  to  be  villagers.  I  saw,  on  our  steamer,  coming 
down  the  river,  a  large  number  of  them  in  irons  as  prisoners. 
Many  were  mere  boys  and  none  were  even  middle-aged.  Under 
the  old  government  they  eked  out  a  scanty  subsistence,  but  their 
wants  were  few  and  they  knew  nothing  of  any  thing  better.    Con- 


1  ^ 


a: 


V  M 


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■^m\ 


if; 


I  »■ 


':*, 


y.' 


1 


i'.i 


176 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


tact  with  the  outer  world  enlarges  their  wants,  but  will  not  stim- 
ulate  their  industry.  The  women  will  ultimately  intermarry 
with  the  intruders  (not  Europeans),  and  a  sturdier  race  will  grow 
up.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  will  upper  Burmah  fill  up  and  be- 
come prosperous.  It  is  about  as  large  as  France,  four  times  as 
large  as  Illinois,  and  has  not  more  people  than  our  own  prairie 
State,  and  has  not  increased  for  several  centuries.  There  are 
evidences  that  it  has  been  constantly  decreasing  for  probably 
several  agos. 

Thcbaw  is  a  state  prisoner  in  the  Madras  country,  and  the 
English  blacken  the  poor  devil's  character,  so  as  to  justify,  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world,  their  high-handed  act  when  they  took  from 
him  his  country.  I  met  several  intelligent  Italians  who  have 
been  in  the  land  many  years.  These  declare  the  representations 
of  the  English  to  be  calumnies  :  that  Thebaw  was  not  a  drunk- 
ard ;  that  he  was  a  good-hearted,  overgrown  boy,  and  that  the 
acts  laid  to  his  door  as  barbarities  were  the  acts  of  his  ministers, 
in  which  he  had  no  hand.  But  the  Italians  were  the  fellows  who 
feathered  their  nests  under  the  old  regime.  They  probably  ex- 
aggerate in  one  direction  as  much  as  the  English  do  in  the  other. 
It  will  be  for  the  good  of  the  world  that  Thcbaw  was  deposed. 
But  I  do  not  see  why  England  should  not  boldly  acknowledge 
she  wanted  all  Burmah  for  strategic  and  state  reasons,  and  justify 
the  act  by  an  honest  declaration  of  the  truth,  instead  of  using  so 
many  little  make-believes.  She  took  and  will  hold  the  country 
because  she  wants  it,  as  she  holds  so  many  other  countries.  His- 
tory will  paint  her  as  a  wholesale,  but  wonderfully  wise,  robber. 

While  I  write  on  the  Palatina,  between  Rangoon  and  Calcutta, 
the  sun  has  gone  down.  The  ship  has  anchored  outside  of  the 
Hooghly  River,  one  of  the  many  estuaries  of  the  Ganges.  The 
moon  has  just  come  up  from  over  a  low  island  to  the  cast.  The 
air  is  balmy  and  has  the  sweet  odor  of  the  land.  Light  clouds 
move  lazily  across  the  ruddy  face  of  the  queen  of  night.  A  well- 
born daur;hter  of  that  far-off  island,  which  rules  nearly  a  third  of 
the  work!  by  her  brain  and  through  her  well-filled  coffers,  is  play- 
ing on  a  piano,  under  the  awning  covering  the  quarter-deck,  and 
with  gentle  touch,  the  sweet  variations  of  the  "  Mocking  Bird." 
Refined  gentlemen  and  gentlewomen  loll  or  walk  softly  about, 
respectfully  listening  to  the  music.  Every  thing  immediately 
about  us  :  the  great  steamer  with  its  electric  lights,  the  refined 
passengers,  some  of  them  Urasians,  or  half-breeds,  indicate  high 
civilization.  It  is  hard  to  realize  that  on  yon  island,  just  under 
the  low-lying  moon,  tigers  are  more  abundant  than  in  any  other 
part  of  the  world.  The  keepers  of  the  signal  station  on  it  live 
within  high  walls,  and  dare  not  go  100  yards  beyond  them. 
Refuge  houses  are  built  along  the  coast  on  high  piles  close  to 
the  water.  Canned  goods,  400  gallons  of  water,  a  chart  with  full 
directions  how  to  find  a  port,  and  a  boat  are  stored  in  each.  And 


ENTRANCE  INTO  THE  GANGES. 


177 


great  placards  are  stuck  up  on  the  walls  warning  the  shipwrecked 
man  to  beware  of  the  tigers,  and  not  to  attempt  to  get  off  ex- 
cept by  day,  and  at  no  time  to  venture  into  the  jungle.  The 
islands  and  surrounding  mainland  are  swampy,  and  the  low 
jungles  are  said  absolutely  to  swarm  with  tigers  and  crocodiles. 
Nothing  less  than  a  tidal  wave  seems  able  to  drive  them  away. 

To-morrow  (the  3d  of  January,  1888)  we  proceed  up  the 
Hooghly  to  Calcutta,  the  capital  of  India— India,  the  cradle  of 
the  world's  lore;  India,  the  land  of  the  sacred  Ganges  and  of 
"coral  strands,"  of  Juggernautic  cars,  and  of  blazing  funeral 
beds  ;  of  lovely  women,  old  India,  the  world's  dreamland  since 
history  first  was  written. 


'  f 


J    \\ 


m.  I.  k 


H 


*  i' 

11 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    HOOGHLY— CALCUTTA— MOUNT     EVEREST— A     WONDERFUL 

RAILROAD— A   DINNER    WITH    LORD    DUFFERIN,    AND 

A   STATE    KALL. 

Calcutta,  January  13,  1888. 

I  HAVE  always  been  to  some  extent  a  reading  man,  and  consid- 
ered myself  reasonably  well  informed  historically,  geographically, 
and  ethnologically  on  the  countries  of  the  world.  I  had  been 
taught  to  think  of  India  as  one  concrete  whole.  I  even  casually 
regarded  both  it  and  Farther  India  as  a  unit.  This  was  all  er- 
roneous. India  is  a  compound  of  many  distinct  peoples,  and  is 
widely  diverse  in  its  geographical,  climatic,  and  historical  ele- 
ments in  its  parts.  Steaming  up  the  Hooghly,  one  of  the 
branches  forming  the  Ganges  delta  to  Calcutta,  the  land  on 
either  bank  was  low  and  flat.  Dykes  10  to  1 5  or  m.ore  feet  high 
ran  along  the  banks  50  to  200  feet  back.  These  are  for  protec- 
tion, less  against  floods  in  the  rainy  seasons,  than  against  tidal 
and  cyclonic  waves,  which  are  frequently  very  destructive.  Great 
rice  fields  were  seen  as  far  as  the  trees  would  permit  the  eye  to 
range.  Clusters  of  straw  stacks  were  frequent,  showing  that  the 
stubble  is  not  left  on  the  ground,  as  is  the  case  among  the  lazy 
Siamese  and  Burmese,  but  is  saved.  The  stacks  are  as  pretty  in 
shape  as  grain  stacks  are  in  our  land  or  even  in  England.  Cocoa- 
nut  and  date  palms  were  everywhere  seen,  either  standing  singly 
over  the  fields  or  in  clumps  about  the  villages  and  hamlets,  the 
picturesque  bent  roofs  of  the  houses  barely  visible  among  the 
palm  fronds.  These  roofs  are  all  of  thatch,  laid  smoothly  and 
thickly  over  a  ridge-pole  of  bamboo  bent  longitudinally  across 
the  centre  of  the  house,  several  feet  higher  in  the  centre  than  at 
the  two  ends.  This  gives  the  houses  or  huts  the  appearance  of 
smooth-topped  bent  hay-ricks,  and  makes  them  very  picturesque 
in  the  midst  of  the  rich  verdure.  As  we  proceeded  up  the  river 
the  tropical  growth  on  each  bank  became  richer,  frequently  ap- 
pearing as  a  dense  jungle. 

We  passed  the  dangerous  sand  bars  at  the  mouth  of  the  James 
and  Mary  River  with  some  little  anxiety.  There  was  nothing 
apparent  in  the  conformation  of  the  river  to  indicate  the  smallest 
danger,  but  every  sailor  aboard  was  at  his  particular  post,  and 
several  at  the  great  wheel,  ready  to  act  on  a  moment's  notice  if 

»78 


THE  JAMES  AND  MARY  QUICKSANDS. 


179 


any  thing  should  derange  the  steam-steering  machinery.  The 
ship  bent  in  and  out  along  the  tortuous  channel  some  two  or 
three  miles  in  an  almost  serpentine  track.  Close  to  us  was  the 
mast  of  a  great  steamer,  a  few  feet  out  of  the  water,  and  day  by 
day  sinking  deeper.  Under  it  are  other  ships,  we  are  told  many 
others,  which  went  down  at  different  times  during  past  years,  and 
the  natives  believe  are  constantly  sinking,  to  stop  only  when  the 
centre  of  the  earth  shall  be  reached.  The  entire  bottom  of  the 
river  is  composed  of  quicksand.  If  a  ship  touches  bottom  it  is 
liable  at  once  to  be  thrown  around  by  the  strong  current,  to  be 
careened,  and  to  become  unmanageable.  The  quicksands  begin 
immediately  to  swallow  it  into  a  maw  which  seems  insatiable. 
Sailors  consider  this  the  most  dangerous  bar  in  the  world.  When 
we  had  passed  through,  the  passengers,  with  solemn  mien,  con- 
gratulated each  other  that  we  would  not  be  crocodiles'  meat  this 
time  at  least. 

We  met  many  ships  in  the  afternoon  and  saw  a  forest  of  masts 
extending  for  miles  along  the  river  at  Calcutta.  Great  three-  and 
four-masted  ships  were  often  lying  four  deep.  I  had  never  be- 
fore seen  so  many  vessels  at  any  river  town.  We  passed  the  now 
deserted  palace  of  the  old  King  of  Oudh,  who  died  only  a  lit- 
tle while  ago,  having  been  England's  state  prisoner  for  many 
years,  living  in  royal  splendor  with  his  women,  with  his  tigers 
and  other  animals,  and  watching  and  guiding  the  flights  of  his 
thousands  of  fancy  pigeons.  England  took  from  him  his  king- 
dom, his  diamonds,  and  his  liberty,  leaving  him  his  luxury,  his 
superstitions,  and  his  bitter  hatred  of  his  dcspoilers.  What  a 
mighty  throng  of  Banquos  could  shake  their  gory  locks  at  Al- 
bion and,  pointing  to  their  fatal  wounds,  say  :  "Thou  didst  it." 

When  we  drew  up  to  the  pier  we  had  to  surrender  our  revolv- 
ers. The  next  day,  after  considerable  delay,  I  got  them  back, 
on  payment  of  a  duty  equal  to  nearly  half  the  value  I  put  upon 
them.  The  duty  on  firearms  is  almost  prohibitory,  and  is  in- 
tended to  keep  them  out  of  the  hands  of  the  natives. 

Calcutta  is  a  very  handsome  city,  with  a  population  of  about 
500,000,  14,000  being  Europeans.  There  are  many  handsome 
buildings  belonging  to  the  governing  classes.  All  are  of  brick, 
plastered  in  whitish  or  yellowish  cement,  and  of  chaste  architect- 
ure. There  are  no  long  monotonous  rows,  but  here  the  house  is 
tall,  there  low,  some  with  pilasters  and  porticos,  others  without, 
thus  presenting  a  picturesque  outline.  The  streets  arc  well  paved 
and  kept  clean.  The  viceroy's  palace — "  Government  building  " — 
is  a  large  structure,  with  lofty,  airy  rooms  of  state,  and  decorated 
with  life-sized  portraits  of  eminent  Indian  rulers  and  princely 
rajahs.  It  is  quite  in  the  heart  of  the  town,  is  surrounded  by 
fine  grounds  with,  at  its  rear,  a  noble  garden.  Behind  this  is  a 
grand  esplanade  along  the  river,  not  far  from  three  miles  in 
length  and  three  quarters  of  a  mile  in  width.     It  is  cut  by  fine 


V\i 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUA'. 


m 


gravel  roads  and  lined  with  spreading,  handsome  trees.  The  road- 
ways are  kept  well  sprinkled.  Toward  sunset  they  are  thronged 
with  handsome  carriages,  drawn  by  good  horses,  mostly  brought 
from  \ew  South  Wales.  Along  the  river  is  the  drive  of  the 
elite.  Here  are  to  be  seen  foreigners  well  dressed  and  natives  in 
gorgeous  attire.  Cut  out  of  this  esplanade  is  the  Garden  of 
Eden  (named  after  a  prominent  man  or  woman  and  not  after  the 
one  from  which  our  first  parents  were  driven).  A  full  band  plays 
here  every  evening.  Carved  out  of  the  lower  end  of  the  espla- 
nade is  Fort  William,  a  magnificent  fort,  capable  of  holding  a  gar- 
rison of  1 3,000  men.  At  the  lower  end  of  the  esplanade  is  the 
zoological  garden.  It  is  well  kept  up,  and  has  a  collection  of  huge 
tigers.  Two  captive  man-eaters  are  noble  specimens,  as  far  sur- 
passing the  beasts  of  the  menagerie  as  a  big  tomcat  does  a  sick 
kitten.  One,  not  long  since  captured,  is  said  to  have  eaten  200 
natives.  I  shook  my  stick  at  him  ;  he  sprang  toward  me  with  a 
roar  which  caused  my  heart  to  pulsate  painfully  for  nearly  an 
liour  after.  Lord  Uufferin  told  me  the  next  day  he  would  give 
me  an  open  letter  which  might  be  useful  to  us  in  our  tour 
through  the  country,  provided  I  would  not  ask  for  elephants  for 
a  tiger  hunt,  whicli  was  the  great  aim  of  globe-trotters.  I 
laughed,  and  told  him  of  my  scare,  and  that  I  would  not  hunt 
tigers  if  the  elephants  were  twice  as  high. 

The  European  resident  quarter  of  the  city  lies  contiguous  to 
the  esplanade.  The  houses  are  large  and  nearly  all  surrounded 
by  extensive  grounds  (throughout  the  East  called  compounds), 
filled  with  fruit  or  ornamental  trees.  They  must  be  very  beautiful 
in  the  spring  when  the  flowering  trees  are  in  bloom.  Many  of 
the  trees  are  then  clothed  in  flowers  of  great  size  and  of  many 
colors.  We  have  seen  many  varieties  of  trees  and  large  shrubs, 
which  bear  flowers  of  a  size  utterly  unknown  in  our  temperate 
zones,  the  magnolia  grandiflora  being  the  only  one  in  our  South- 
ern States  which  can  be  compared  to  them.  The  native  quar- 
ters of  the  city  are  better  than  in  Siam  or  Burmah,  but  pre- 
sent very  few  features  which  lift  them  out  of  what  an  Ameri- 
can would  term  squalid.  The  suburbs  have  a  great  many  tanks 
for  holding  water.  These  are  generally  oblong  pits  50  to  200 
or  300  feet  long  and  half  as  broad,  and  10  to  15  feet  deep. 
Some  of  them  are  parts  of  a  system  connected  by  small  canals 
running  to  the  river,  not  for  navigable  purposes,  but  simply  as 
tank  feeders.  Many,  however,  have  no  connecting  streams,  but 
are  filled  by  the  enormous  rainfall  in  the  wet  season,  and  be- 
come stagnant  pools,  breeding  malaria  and  cholera.  As  in 
Bangkok,  this  dread  disease  is  always  here,  the  statistics  ascrib- 
ing to  it  several  deaths  every  week  in  the  year,  and  running  up 
to  perhaps  a  hundred  without  being  considered  an  alarming  epi- 
demic. Foreigners  seem  to  regard  it  lightly,  and  several  have 
told  me  we  pay  it  a  ridiculous  if  not  cowardly  attention  when  it 


CALCUTTA  A\D  E.VVIRONS. 


i8i 


shows  a  disposition  to  visit  our  shores ;  that,  with  the  present 
knowledge  of  its  proper  treatment,  it  could  never  become  a 
scourge  in  Europe  or  America  if  the  people  would  only  restrain 
their  alarm. 

Calcutta,  in  its  central  parts,  is  supplied  with  water  from  many 
miles  up  the  Ilooghly.  It  is  settled  and  filtered  in  large  reser- 
voirs, and  seems  fairly  pure  water.  Very  careful  people,  how- 
ever, boil  it ;  but  the  majority  of  the  foreigners  use  it  as  it  comes 
from  the  hydrants.  It  is  carried  into  upper  floors  in  goat-skins. 
It  looks  queer  to  see  coolies  sprinkling  the  streets  from  skins 
slung  over  the  shoulders.  It  is  thus  done  throughout  the  espla- 
nade. In  the  business  streets  coolies  sprinkle  from  large  movable 
hose,  or  from  carts  which  are  filled  by  women  carriers.  Mr.  Lin- 
coln regretted  during  our  unpleasantness  that  he  had  more  briga- 
diers than  mules.  Here  men  and  women  are  cheaper  than  mules 
or  oxen,  and  do  the  work  which  the  four-legged  beasts  of  burden 
should  perform. 

Two  days  after  our  arrival  we  made  a  trip  of  400  miles  to 
Darjeeling  in  quest  of  the  mighty  Himalaya  mountains.  We  were 
told  we  would  get  a  free/X,  and  that  mighty  Everest  was  hiding 
under  continual  clouds.  Trusting  to  our  usual  good-luck  we 
went.  The  road  ran  due  north  over  the  flat  lands  forming  the 
great  delta  of  the  Ganges.  Roth  in  going  and  returning  we  were 
upon  the  train  at  night,  but  the  time-tables  were  such  that  we 
only  lost  100  miles  in  the  middle  of  the  great  plain.  We  had 
daylight  while  going  and  returning  while  traversing  250  to  300 
miles  of  countr)-.  Nearly  all  of  it  is  under  close  cultivation.  For 
several  hours  the  road  passed  through  rice-fields  and  plantations  of 
cocoa-nut  and  date  palms,  orchards  of  mango,  and  jack-fruit,  thick- 
ets of  bananas,  and  fields  of  sugar-cane  ;  then  through  fields  of 
wheat,  some  just  planted  or  barely  green,  and  others  going  into 
head  ;  fields  of  gram,  of  split  peas,  and  other  cereals  ;  then  through 
fields  of  jute  and  of  root  crops.  The  whole  country  is  a  dead  flat, 
crossed  by  several  branches  of  the  Ganges  and  bayous  or  natural 
canals.  The  fields  had  everywhere  scattered  trees,  so  that  on 
looking  over  them  from  our  low  elevation  they  had  the  appearance 
of  being  almost  wooded  and  brightly  green.  There  were  many 
villages  and  hamlets  nestled  down  among  palms,  fruit  orchards, 
and  broad,  spreading  banyans.  We  made  our  beds  in  the  cars, 
slept  well,  and  in  the  morning  had  our  first  view  of  the  dark  foot- 
hills of  the  mighty  backbone  of  Asia.  These  hills  rise  abruptly 
from  the  plain  to  a  height  of  nearly  4,cxx)  feet.  They  reach  the 
plain  in  well  defined  spurs.  Behind  them  rise  mountain  upon 
mountain,  running  back  to  Kunchinjinga,  the  second  mountain  of 
the  world.  This  mighty  pile,  with  its  eternal  snows,  12,000  feet 
above  the  snow-line,  should  have  been  visible  from  Siliguri,  where 
we  left  the  broad  gauge  and  boarded  the  little  train  upon  a  two- 
foot  road,  but  it  was  veiled  in  cloud  and  mist. 


m 


J  M 


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i'-* 


y.i 


l82 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUAr 


I 'I' 


At  the  next  station,  just  at  the  foot  of  the  hills,  \vc  were  only 
12  miles  from  Darjecling,  as  the  crow  flies,  but  had  to  make  a  run 
of  46  on  the  road  to  reach  our  goal.  We  were  to  make  this,  not 
by  \o\v^  detours,  diverging  far  away  from  the  straight  line,  but  by 
bending,  winding,  curving,  doubling,  looping,  and  zigzagging 
along  the  direct  route,  never  more  than  a  mile  or  so  away  from  it, 
and  crossing  it  again  and  again  and  over  again  many  times.  I 
cannot  describe  in  words  this  climb  of  7,40c-  and  odd  feet  better 
than  by  saying,  we  ran  up  the  curvings  of  a  corkscrew.  From 
this  point  the  tea-gardens,  which  cover  many  of  the  slopes  as  far 
as  Darjeeling.  came  in  sight.  Through  the  glass  the  deep-green 
bushes, — on  terraces  or  in  long  rows  covering  the  smooth  slopes, — 
the  white  bungalows  ;ind  factories,  looked  very  pretty  and  pictu- 
resque. The)'  mount  the  hills  to  a  height  of  4,000  feet.  Deep 
valleys  and  gorges,  covered  with  dense  forests,  or  frowning,  rockj' 
crags,  separated  garden  from  garden.  This  was  the  commence- 
ment of  the  celebrated  "  Darjeeling  tea  plantations."  The  plant 
is  of  the  Chinese  variety,  spreading  into  bushes  from  the  root, 
differing  from  the  Assam  plant,  which  spreads  from  a  single  stock. 
At  this  season  the  bushes  are  being  pruned  down  flat  on  the  top 
— about  two  feet  high — so  as  to  give  a  larger  surface  to  the  air  ami 
sun's  rays,  and  to  permit  a  greater  number  of  shoots,  from  which 
alone  the  young  leaves  are  plucked  for  merchantable  tea.  There 
are  now  in  this  district  25,000  to  40,000  acres  in  producing  gar- 
dens, and  tlie  government  refuses  to  sell  more  land  for  tea- 
planting,  hoping  thus  to  prevent  disastrous  over-production.  Cin- 
chona is  being  cultivated  largely,  the  government  making  the 
first  experiment  in  a  2.000-acre  j)lantation,  which  has  proved 
successful  and  very  profitable. 

Soon  after  taking  the  narrow-gauge  road  we  plunged  on  an  easy 
grade  into  a  dense  forest,  which  looked  as  if  it  might  be  the  lair 
of  tigers.  On  the  plain,  a  few  miles  back,  we  passed  the  edge  of 
a  wild  jungle  of  tall  reedy  grass,  canes,  and  rushes  with  plumes 
two  feet  long,  10  to  15  high,  and  of  almost  impenetrable  thick- 
ness, in  which  are  several  herds  of  wild  elephants  and  'lany  tigers, 
several  of  the  latter  proving  themselves  lately  to  be  bad  man- 
caters.  A  planter  aboard  told  us  of  a  coolie  who  was  caught  and  car- 
ried off  a  few  days  before  ;  he  was  at  once  followed  and  overtaken. 
The  man  seemetl  as  yet  not  much  hurt,  but  the  tiger  was  deter- 
mined not  to  abanilon  his  dinner.  The  pursuers  fired  at  him, 
trying  to  avoid  hitting  the  native ;  the  balls  did  not  strike  the 
monster  in  a  vital  part,  who  at  each  shot  gave  the  man's  shoulder 
a  craunching  bite.  The  poor  fellow  screamed  to  his  keepers  to 
shoot  to  kill,  that  he  was  being  eaten.  One  of  the  planters, 
seeing  the  nccessit\-,  took  good  aim  and  sent  his  ball  into  the 
tiger's  heart,  but.  unfortunately,  also  through  the  man.  Fidl- 
grown  buffaloes  are  frequently  carried  off. 

Our    train    consisted    of     nine    cars,    each     one    being     nine 


A   WINDING  RAILROAD. 


183 


feet  long,  the  most  of  them  open,  so  as  to  permit  a  full  view  from 
either  side.  We  sat  only  60  feet  behind  the  engine,  yet  so  short 
were  the  curves,  after  the  ascent  began,  that  the  locomotive  was 
rarely  out  of  sight  on  one  or  the  other  side.  Several  times  it 
seemed  to  be  going  nearly  at  right  angles  to  the  line  of  our  car. 
We  wormed  along,  now  to  the  right  then  to  the  left,  never  on  a 
level,  and  often  climbing  grades  of  one  foot  in  less  than  25,  the 
average  grade  for  the  entire  hill  road  being  one  in  28.  We  passed 
ovci  four  different  complete  loops,  two  of  them  double  ones. 
These  loops  are  none  of  them  over  qcx)  feet  around.  One,  a  per- 
fect circle,  was  between  500  and  600  feet  in  circumference,  or  less 
than  200  feet  in  diameter.  The  loops  are  made  by  the  road 
passing  on  a  bridge  over  itself  in  making  the  circle.  The  double 
loops  are  made  by  the  track  passing  over  itself,  and  then  circling 
the  hill  on  a  higher  level  and  to  within  a  few  feet  of  its  first  line 
of  approach.  Imagine  a  mountain  spur  ending  in  a  rounded  half 
cone  of  say  200  feet  in  diameter  on  its  levelled  summit.  A  rail- 
road comes  up  on  one  face  of  the  spur  from  the  valley  below  ;  it 
reaches  the  cone,  makes  a  complete  circle  around  it  on  an  ascend- 
ing grade,  passing  over  itself,  tlicn  makes  another  circle,  and  con- 
tinues its  ascent  along  the  other  face  of  tlie  spur  but  nearer  its 
top  ridge.  Several  curves  are  made  nearly  completing  a  loop, 
and  one  describes  the  figure  eight.  At  one  loop  we  met  a  de- 
scending freight  train  on  a  switch.  In  a  few  moments  we  saw 
it  100  feet  below  us,  running  in  the  same  direction  we  were 
going.  At  one  point  a  boy  could  throw  a  stone  over  three  tracks, 
each  some  hundred  feet  below  the  one  next  above  it. 

We  were  at  one  time  climbing  an  hour  or  two  through  dense 
masses  of  richest  tropical  growth — thickets  of  wild  bananas,  of 
great  bamboos  of  several  varieties,  some  of  them  60  feet  high,  of 
taro  and  other  broad-leaved  plants,  and  waxy,  green,  lofty  trees. 
For  several  hours  we  looked  aloft  upon  wooded  mountains  and  at 
tea  plantations  far  above  us.  Then  we  passed  beyond  the  alti- 
tude of  great  bamboos  and  bananas.  We  were  among  tree-ferns 
10  to  20  feet  high,  their  great  fronds  .spreading  wide  and  beauti- 
fully. All  trees  were  covered  with  moss  from  root  to  branch. 
The  branches  and  limbs  were  loaded  with  orchids,  some  of  them 
in  masses  like  hanging  shrubs.  Mighty  climbing  vines  clung  to 
the  trees,  their  winding  stalks  having  the  appearance  of  huge  ser- 
pents.  Some  of  the  trees  seemed  to  have  been  strangled  by  the 
serpentine  folds  of  these  monsters.  Many  of  the  climbers  had 
leaves  a  foot  or  more  long.  There  were  huge  vines  standing  un- 
supported, looking  like  trees  growing  in  corkscrew  windings. 
They  once  wrapped  about  large  trees  which  they  strangled.  The 
trees  died  and  rotted,  leaving  the  vines,  resembling  great  cork- 
screws a  foot  and  over  in  diameter,  and  able  to  support  their  own 
weight.  Their  long,  snake-like  branches  were  clinging  to  the 
tops  of  trees  30  to  50  feet  away  ;  they  had  caught  them  many 


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i«4 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


4o 


years  ago,  when  their  main  supporters  were  yet  alive.  Still  we 
climbed.  Tea  plantations  and  factories  which  we  had  looked  at  with 
glasses  a  while  since  far  above  us  were  now  far  down  below.  \Vc 
wound  around  precipitous  heights  and  looked  over  steep  descents, 
dropping  like  precipices  i,ooo  feet  almost  under  us  ;  deep  valley 
gorges  fay  in  mossy  green  far  below  ;  green  mountain  heights 
lifted  far  above  us.  An  Englishman  asked  me  what  I  thought  of 
the  scenery.  I  replied  :  "  It  is  beautiful."  He  looked  at  me  with 
contempt  and  said  :  "  You  should  have  said  grand."  "  \o,"  I 
rejoined,  "  it  is  too  green,  too  fresh,  too  flowery.  The  almond- 
trees  are  too  pink  ;  the  verdure  is  too  tufted  :  the  flowing  outlines 
are  too  soft  for  grandeur.  There  arc  here  all  the  elements  of  the 
beautiful."  An  hour  later,  when  nearer  the  crests  of  the  spur, 
and  the  mountains  towering  above  thousands  of  feet  were  freer 
from  trees,  and  rocky  heights  were  predominating,  I  said  to  the 
Britisher :  '  Now  we  have  grandeur."  He  answered  :  "  Your 
criticism  was  true.     I  was  wrong." 

We  passed  through  several  mountain  villages,  and  saw  new 
races  of  men.  Bright,  active  Ncpaulcse,  men  and  women.  Sturdy, 
dirty  Bhootas,  men  and  women,  carrying  great  loads  on  their 
backs,  suspended  by  a  band  over  their  forehead  ;  their  cheek 
bones  as  high  as  American  Indians',  and  their  faces  of  the  same 
hue.  if  the  Indian's  copper  were  only  added.  The  women  had 
their  foreheads  and  cheeks  stained  as  if  with  pig's  blood.  In 
their  ears  were  huge  drops  studded  with  turquoises.  Around  their 
necks  were  all  their  wealth  in  silver,  corals,  and  jewels  ;  bracelets 
covered  their  arms  and  silver  anklets  ran  around  the  ankle  ;  stuck 
upon  one  side  of  their  nose  were  ornaments  like  jewelled  buttons. 
They  were  near'y  all  dirty,  but  many  of  them  decidedly  hand- 
some. All  were  good-natured  and  had  mouths  of  pearly  teeth. 
These  are  the  doers  of  hard  work,  and  came  from  Bhootan,  up 
against  Thibet.  Here  were  Lepchees,  the  old  inhabitants  of 
these  hills,  very  active  and  very  lazy.  They  quit  the  land  as  cul- 
tivation approaches,  preferring  jungle  fruits,  roots,  and  berries  to 
the  produce  of  industry.  The  people  of  different  tribes  become 
easily  distinguishable,  and  commend  themselves  to  a  traveller's 
favor  by  the  brave  freedom  of  their  eyes,  and  the  entire  absence  of 
the  slavish  serx'ility  which  so  characterizes  the  people  of  the  plains. 

At  four  o'clock  we  had  reached  an  elevation  of  over  7,400  feet, 
the  highest  mountain  railroad  station  in  the  world.  IDarjeeling, 
three  miles  farther  on,  is  a  very  picturesque  town,  with  pretty 
houses,  all  in  gardens,  scattered  along  the  steep  side  of  a  sort  of 
amphitheatre,  looking  down  over  a  deep  valley  and  over  slopes  of 
tea-gardens.  Over  the  valley  in  front  of  the  town  rears  a  succes- 
sion of  mountains.  8,000,  10,000,  and  12,000  feet  high,  with  mag- 
nificent sky  lines ;  and  farther  over  and  beyond  them,  45  miles 
away,  mighty  Kunchinjinga,  28,156  feet  high,  and  next  to  Everest 
the  loftiest  peak  on  the  globe. 


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VARIOUS  PEOPLES. 


•85 


Darjceling  is  a  summer  resort  for  the  Europeans  of  the  plain, 
the  summer  home  of  the  Lieutenant-Governor  uf  India,  who  is 
also  Governor  of  Bengal,  and  a  sanitarium  for  the  English  troops. 
On  the  top  of  the  hill,  1,000  feet  above  the  town,  is  a  barrack  and 
hospital.  In  the  town  is  a  bazaar,  in  which  on  Sunday  we  saw  a 
most  interesting  mass  of  5,000  or  6,000  people,  from  Nepaul,  Sik- 
kim,  Bhootan,  Thibet,  and  Darjeeling  proper.  It  was  one  of  a 
regular  set  of  fairs  for  trading,  and  was  food  for  several  days' 
study.  Trade  was  going  on  in  sheep,  goats,  and  ponies  from 
Bhootan  and  a  few  from  Thibet.  People  were  there  from  Sikkim 
with  maize,  beans,  peas,  oranges,  and  grain  ;  people  from  Nepaul 
with  knives  and  produce  of  several  sorts.  The  stocks  were  small, 
frequently  only  so  much  as  the  dealer  had  brought  on  his  back 
over  the  mountain  passes.  One  had  two  or  three  bushels  of 
Indian  corn,  a  poor  article.  Another  a  little  quantity  of  beans  or 
millet.  Here  was  a  woman  who  had  travelled  for  two  or  three 
days  with  two  bushels  of  oranges  hanging  from  her  forehead. 
She  had  climbed  a  pass  18,000  feet  high  and  slept  in  the  cold 
open  air  on  the  bare  ground,  and  was  happy  when  she  sold  her 
stock  out  at  retail  and  received  three  rupees,  or  $1.05.  There  was 
a  man  who  had  journeyed  in  the  same  way  from  just  under  Mount 
Everest,  a  five  or  six  days'  journey.  Mis  stock  was  four  Roman- 
nosed  sheep  and  half-a-dozen  Nepaulese  knives.  The  sheep, 
which  had  been  the  pack-horses  for  his  knives  and  provender,  are 
worth  three  rupees  each,  and  the  knives  one.  The  dealers  were 
generally  squatted  on  the  ground,  with  their  little  stores  in  bas- 
kets or  on  mats  before  tliem.  Their  worldly  wealth  was  small, 
but  they  had  a  contented  look. 

It  made  us,  on  arrival,  almost  blush  to  permit  a  good-looking, 
soft-eyed  girl  take  our  satchels  from  the  station  to  the  hotel.  One 
of  tliem  makes  our  arms  ache  to  carry  a  hundred  or  so  yards,  yet 
this  little  girl  swung  two  from  her  forehead,  climbed  nimbly  the 
high  hill  to  the  hotel,  a  few  hundred  yards  off,  and  was  perfectly 
satisfied  when  we  gave  her  two  annas,  or  five  cents.  There  are 
many  fine  rides  in  the  neighborhood  of  Darjeeling ;  one,  through 
a  dense  forest  on  a  steep  mountain  side,  gave  us  a  fine  insight 
into  the  growth  of  these  latitudes.  So  close  and  dense  is  the 
forest  that  the  sun  never  penetrates  to  the  ground,  and  a  fallen 
stick  never  dries.  The  rainfall  here  is  about  125  inches  a  year ; 
the  soil  is  as  rich  as  loam  can  be  made,  and  the  forest  vegetation 
simply  astonishing. 

We  reached  Darjeeling  exactly  24  hours  after  leaving  Calcutta. 
The  gray  and  green  mountains  around  were  visible,  but  thick 
clouds  shrouded  the  snow-clad  frozen  heights.  Our  landlord  said 
it  was  rapidly  turning  colder,  and  the  morrow  would  be  bright. 
We  went  to  bed  to  hope  and  dream.  I  was  awakened  just  before 
five  by  the  mournful  howling  and  queer  chattering  barkings  of 
jackals  close  to  my  window.     It  seemed  to  me  there  was  a  pack, 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


I'l' 


but  I  had  an  indistinct  recollection  that  where  two  or  three  of 
these  brutes  are  gathered  together  much  noise  is  there  with  them. 
I  went  to  the  front  of  the  house,  and  before  me  rose  the  viceroy 
of  mountains— mighty  Kunchinjinga.  His  glaciered  peak  caught 
the  pale  rays  of  the  ascending  morn,  and  sent  them  back  as  if 
from  a  rugged  mass  of  cold,  burnished  silver.  Grand  and  gloomy, 
he  pierced  the  sky,  a  sceptred  monarch.  To  his  right  and  to  his 
left  stood  his  ro)-al  aids,  each  succeeding  one  a  little  lower  than 
the  last.  For  half  a  hundred  miles  these  royal  attendants  stood 
in  grand  array,  each  a  king,  and  crowned  in  silvered  diadems.  I 
could  searcely  tear  myself  away,  but  looking  to  the  north  I  saw  a 
clear  sky  over  the  lofty  foot-hills,  and  had  reason  to  think  the 
monarch  of  all  was  unclouded. 

I  aroused  the  boys,  and  ordered  ponies  out.  We  drank  a  cup 
of  hot  tea,  mounted  our  ponies,  and  were  quickly  tearing  like 
madmen  through  the  crisp  frosty  air.  up  the  prett\-  gravel  roads, 
along  the  mountain  side,  toward  Tiger  Hill,  from  whose  sum- 
mit. 9.000  feet  higl",  we  might  catch  the  rising  sun  as  he  gi\es  his 
morning  kiss  to  the  world's  acknowledged  monarch — imperial 
Everest.  Our  coolies  afoot,  one  to  each  horse,  triod  to  keep  pace 
with  us,  but  the  ponies  were  brave  little  fellows,  and  we  three, 
though  not  at  all  first-class  equestrians,  were  racing  to  beat  the  sun, 
and  paused  not  to  consider  tliat  the  narrow  steep  roadways  were 
frosted  and  icy,  and  that  a  single  mi.sstep  might  send  us  hundreds 
of  feet  down  the  precipitous  gorges  j'awning  far  below.  Wildly 
we  galloped  on.  We  reached  diverging  patiis.  We  knew  not 
which  to  take.  Two  of  the  coolies  were  far  behind,  but  one 
bright,  lithe,  young  Nepaulese  was  panting  100  yards  back. 
Gl-'-ious  Kunchinjinga  was  now  catching  the  early  dawn.  The 
bo)-  came  up.  I  made  signs  for  him  to  take  me  bj-  the  hand.  On 
we  rushed.  My  tawny  boy  took  strides  unknown  since  classic 
footmen  thus  ran  b\'  the  side  of  mounted  soldiers.  ]?ut  his  young 
mountain  limbs  were  unequal  to  the  task.  Johnnie,  who  is  ever 
re^-ly  to  lend  a  helping  hand,  now  offered  two  helping  legs.  He 
put  the  boy  on  his  horse  and,  taking  my  hand,  ran  for  a  half- 
mile  :  they  then  exchanged  places.  On  we  dashed,  riding  harder 
than  ever,  for  a  fleecy  cloud  resting  high  over  Kunchinjinga's 
snowy  peak  was  dyed  in  rosy  pink.  The  sun  would  soon  be  up, 
and  might  throw  a  blush  upon  E  'crest's  brow,  and  we  not  be 
there  to  see  it.  The  road  was  now  climbing  Mount  Sinchal,  a 
little  lower  than  Tiger  Hill,  and  on  the  way  to  it.  From  it 
Everest  is  seen  nearly  as  well  as  from  the  other.  Our  boy  could 
not  hold  to  me  along  the  narrow  ragged  path.  Trusting  to  our 
mountain  craft  we  left  him,  and  rode  as  hard  up  the  side  as  our 
panting  i^inies  could  bear  us.  We  reached  the  summit  ;  we 
turned  to  the  northward  and  there,  far  away,  over  a  depression  in 
the  lofty  gray  mountain  spur  of  Kunchinjinga.  stood  apparently 
close  together  three  burnished  snowy  peaks.     The  centre  one  was 


TJIE  WORLD'S  MONARCH,    IVEREST. 


187 


Everest,  just  catching  the  mellow  tint  which  precedes  the  rising 
of  the  sun.     We  had  won  the  race ;  we  had  beaten  old  Sol ! 

I  sat  upon  my  pantip<y  horse,  my  heart  ^,00  full  for  speech.  I 
had  dreamed  of  yon  far-off  irozi'U  pinnacle,  and  had  yearned  to 
see  it  ere  I  died ;  had  yearned,  but  hardly  hoped.  Countless 
thousands  of  men  had  fought  and  battled  that  they  might  win 
the  laurel  wreath  from  human  kind,  but  the  world  had  not  yet 
determined,  and  never  would,  who  had  been  its  greatest  warrior. 
Countless  thousands  of  men  had  racked  the  aching  brain,  had  burned 
midnight  oil,  and  had  worn  their  souls  away  that  they  might  win 
the  laurel  wreath  from  human  kind,  but  the  world  had  not  and 
never  will  decide  who  had  been  the  sweetest  songster,  the  grandest 
poet,  the  loftiest  orator,  the  smoothest  writer,  or  the  profoundest 
thinker.  IMan's  ambition — his  love  of  glory — is  but  a  mockery,  a 
delusive  snare,  so  fragile  are  the  foundations,  so  evanescent  the 
superstructure,  of  his  fame.  Accident  or  i)urchased  support  lifts 
the  all-unworthy  to  gidd)-  heights;  calumny,  detracti(jn,  and  self- 
ish envy  <Tnaw  away  the  kevstone  of  the  arch  over  which  honest 
merit  climbs  into  the  light.  Purchased  history  draws  a  sponge 
over  tile  record  of  noble  deeds,  and  distils  from  a  lie  a  figment 
with  which  to  swell  pigmy  actions  into  heroic  achievements. 
Even  if  true  worth  shoukl  wm  its  i)lace  on  the  historic  page  or 
have  its  lecord  deep  cut  into  monumental  stone,  the  stoutest 
book  written  by  the  muse  of  history  easily  melts  into  smoke,  and 
the  hardest  marble  quickly  crumbles  into  dust.  But  yonder 
mighty  pile  had  its  foundations  welded  in  the  white  heat  of  the 
world's  ever-burning  central  fires.  Its  corner-stones  were  laid 
over  the  earth's  solid  arch.  Its  superstructure  was  spread  with 
cement  crystallized  bj-  the  breath  of  the  Mighty  Chemist  of  the 
boundless  universe.  It  knows  no  peer,  it  brooks  no  rival,  and  the 
world  concedes  its  supremacy — a  supremacy  which  can  know  no 
derogation  until  the  ribs  of  the  earth  shall  give  way,  and  its  high 
places  sluill  sink  into  its  bowels;  when  the  dark  depths  of  oceans 
shall  be  lifted  'rito  heights,  and  the  scs  shall  give  back  to  light 
the  buried  cities  whose  as  yet  unattained  knowledge  lived  in 
Egyptian  tradition  and  Indian  legend,  and  has  furnished  the 
nations  and  peoples  with  their  m.uiy  religions  and  their  countless 
superstitions.  Until  then  proud  Everest  will  rule,  the  one  loftiest 
imj-ierial  chief,  or  until,  in  the  crash  of  worlds,  this  globe  of  ours 
shall  be  scattered  into  cometic  ilust. 

We  looked  now  to  the  far-off  peak  in  the  northward,  then  to 
the  glaciered  heights  of  the  ne.\t  highest,  spread  out  ai  the  north- 
east. The  sky  was  absoluteh-  clear,  save  only  the  filmy  cloud 
which  poised  like  a  lifted  veil  over  Kunchinjiriga's  highest  ]3cak. 
It  grew  each  min  ite  redder  as  the  sun  climbed  higher.  After  a 
few  moments  we  turned  our  bi'ck  to  Everest  and  galloped  towards 
Tiger  Hill  summit,  but  looked  over  our  shoulders  each  minute  to 
keep  the  ;:nowy  peaks  in  view.   The  morning  light  crept  down  the 


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mountain  side  and  lighted  up  the  deep  valleys  far  below  us.  The 
cloud  over  tiic  viceroy  began  to  catch  a  golden  hue.  We  paused 
and  looked  back:  a  slight  flush  was  upon  Everest.  The  flush 
grew  more  mellow.  We  looked  and  a  yellowish  brush  was  drawn 
across  the  pinnacle.  Wc  turned  toward  cast  of  north.  A  flood 
of  rosy  hue  was  upon  Kunchinjinga.  Again  we  turned  toward 
the  west  of  north.  We  were  just  in  time,  for  Everest's  peak  was 
a  burnished  point  of  golden  light.  The  sun  was  soon  shining 
upon  the  two  mighty  ones. 

We  dismounted,  and  led  our  ponies  leisurely  to  the  top.  We 
were  now  nearly  9,000  feet  up,  and  had  a  glorious  panorama 
spread  around  us.  Far  below  us  were  deep  valleys  green  in  \'irgin 
forest,  or  bright  in  hamlet  and  plantation.  White  bungalows 
were  stretched  along  the  ridge  back  of  Darjeeling.  Tea-factories 
and  tea-shrubs  brightened  the  side  of  the  lofty  hill  toward  us,  and 
a  Bhootan  village  was  picturesque  upon  the  almost  precipitous 
end  of  the  spur.  Lofty  dark-green  mountains  lay  in  a  confused 
pile  between  the  valley  under  us  and  the  snowy  range  some  40 
miles  away.  To  the  south,  through  the  pass  we  had  climbed  the 
day  before,  the  great  plain  was  stretched,  its  rivers  and  fields  and 
jungle  patches  where  nearest  us  but  dimly  seen,  aiul  vanishing  in 
the  distance  where  all  was  swallowed  in  dusty  smoke.  The  air  was 
crisp,  a  hoar-frost  was  white  upon  fallen  leaves  and  low  bushes ; 
a  little  pool  a  few  feet  across  had  a  filmy  coating  of  ice.  We 
walked  about  the  little  level  to  keep  warm.  It  was  a  glorious 
morning,  and  a  glorious  vision.  I  felt  that  if  I  could  but  keep 
pace  with  the  sun  I  would  like  to  get  home  in  a  half-day,  and  thus 
make  this  the  culminating  point  in  my  "race  with  the  sun." 

We  had  two  splendid  days  at  Darjeeling,  watching  the  fine  tints 
upon  the  icooo  feet  of  eternal  snows  along  the  great  range  when 
the  sun  was  sinking  ;  watching  the  gra_,-  silver  tone  when  the 
morning  moon  was  shining  upon  them  ;  and  watching  the  rosy 
tints  mellowing  into  a  delicate  orange  when  the  sun  was  rising. 
Wc  took  a  wild  ride  along  a  narrow  mountain  road  through  vir- 
gin forest  jungle,  ar.J  left  the  picturesque  city  with  regret.  The 
ride  down  the  narrow-gauge  rail  was  much  finer  than  the  ascent. 
We  could  see  where  we  were  going,  and  could  look  upon  the 
bending,  winding,  and  doubling  of  the  road,  and  comprehend  the 
daring  engineering  skill  which  laid  it  out  far  better  than  when  go- 
ing up.  A  train  comes  down  the  road  nearly  ever)'  daj-  by  gravi- 
tation alone.  Indeed  our  own  train  practically  did  the  same. 
Our  iron  horse  did  not  take  his  drinks  a  fifth  as  often  as  he  had 
done  on  his  upward  bound. 

And  now  something  of  the  society  of  Calcutta,  and  I  shall  have 
done.  The  Europeans  live  in  considerable  style,  own  fair  horses, 
anc'i  the  ladies  are  finely  dressed.  All  have  a  large  array  of  serv- 
ants, whose  demeanor  toward  their  employers  is  more  .servile 
than  was  ever  that  of  the  slaves  of  our  Southern  States      This 


P 


DINNER  WITH  THE  VICEROY. 


189 


perhaps  is  entirely  outward,  and  has  characterized  for  ages  the 
deportment  of  all  inferiors  toward  their  superiors.  Tlie  foreigners 
look  in  good  health,  but  arc  guarded  to  make  but  little  violent 
bodily  exertion,  and  none  in  the  sunshine.  The  children  are 
fairly  ruddy  up  to  four  or  five  years  of  age.  After  that  they  are 
pale,  and  it  is  thought  not  safe  to  attempt  to  rear  them  here. 
They  become  debilitated,  and  painfully  lacking  in  vital  energy. 
All  avoid  great  exposure  to  the  sun,  even  at  this  season.  We  are 
constantly  warned  on  this  point. 

The  day  after  our  first  arrival  here,  I  called  upon  the  secretary 
of  Lord  Dufferin,  Viceroy,  and  presented  a  special  letter  I  had;  I 
then  disclosed  my  intention  to  leave  the  next  day  for  the  Hima- 
layas. This  was  just  at  noon.  When  I  went  to  my  room  from 
the  lunch-table,  I  found  an  invitation  from  the  Earl  and  Countess 
of  Dufferin  to  dinner  that  evening  at  8  o'clock.  On  the  invitation 
were  the  words  :  "  Mess  dress."  I  do  not  know  what  they  meant, 
fo  I  found  the  company  in  what  seemed  full  evening  dress. 
Lord  arid  Ladj  Duffi^rjn  received  me  with  great  cordiality.  I  had 
met  them  years  ago,  but  only  casually.  The  dining-room  is  a 
very  fine  one,  handsomely  decorated.  Stalwart  servants  in  brilliant 
red  stood  one  for  cacl)  guest,  and  behind  the  carl  several  splendid 
fellows.  I  think  of  his  guard,  in  dax/ling  crimson.  The  table,  at 
which  there  were  18  plates,  was  brilliantly  lighted  with  candles 
in  three  lofty  branching  candelabra  of  12  and  iS  lights.  The  por- 
celain and  glass  were  of  costly  pattern  and  ware.  A  large  quan- 
tity of  plate,  and  spurs,  horseshoes,  and  roses,  all  of  gold,  of  great 
value  were  the  table  decorations.  I  conducted  to  the  table  Lady 
Helen  Blackwood,  the  Earl's  very  distinguished-looking  daughter, 
I  sitting  next  to  the  countess  ;  both  were  very  affable.  Opposite, 
across  the  narrow  vwiy  of  the  table,  sat  the  Earl  and  the  beautiful 
young  Duchess  of  Montrose.  The  menu  was  excellent,  and  the 
cuisine  perfect.  The  Earl  was  exceedingly  kind,  and  gave  evidence 
during  our  talk  of  the  tact  which  has  so  marked  his  long  and  suc- 
cessful career.  We  left  the  table  early,  to  drive  to  a  Shakespearian 
reading  at  the  institute.  The  hall  was  well  filled,  seats  being  re- 
served for  the  viceroyal  party  at  the  front,  a  sofa  in  the  imme- 
diate front  being  !^or  the  Earl  and  Countess.  With  great  courtesy 
the  Earl  placed  n  e  at  his  side,  his  lady  taking  a  chair.  During  the 
intermission  he  passed  to  several  ladies,  having  a  fev.'  pleasant 
words  for  each,  and  the  Countess  sat  with  me.  When  the  reading 
was  over,  every  one  arose  and  stood  until  the  Earl  and  Countess 
and  aids  passed  out.  Wiien  they  drove  off  the  aid  in  waiting.  Captain 
Gore,  informed  me  that  he  was  ordered  to  get  immediate  informa- 
tion of  our  return  from  Darjeeling.  I  promised  to  inform  him  by 
telegraph.  I  give  these  little  incidents  to  show  the  politeness  of 
the  vicegerent  of  the  empress  in  her  vast  Indian  dominions. 

On  our  return  from  the  mountains  we  found  invitations  to 
a  state  ball  on  the  12th.    On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  before,  the 


in 


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J  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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Countess  gave  her  annual  garden  part>.  All  who  have  the  entree 
of  the  government  house  have  the  riVht  to  attend.  Tliere  was  a 
brilliant  assemblage  of  people,  including  a  large  number  of  na- 
tives, in  gorgeous  attires  of  silk,  gold,  and  diamonds.  The  Earl 
and  Lady  Dufferin  made  the  boys  feel  easy  when  presented. 
They  wished  us  to  be  present  at  the  state  ball,  regretting  that  we 
would  see  so  few  of  the  leading  natives.  But  they  have  adopted 
the  rule  to  invite  none  to  the  balls  who  will  not  bring  their  wives. 
This  the  majority  of  natives  cannot  do,  their  wives  being  kept  in 
absolute  secirsion.  I  was  told  this  rule  was  adopted  at  Govern- 
ment House  >i  of  some  insulting  criticisms  made  by  natives 
on  the  di'collctL  .  mes  of  European  ladies.  Their  own  wives 
being  absent,  the^  /ere  free  in  bandying  ribald  jests.  We  saw 
eight  chieftains  from  the  mountains  near  Afghanistan.  The  Earl 
told  me  they  could  bring  into  the  field  25,000  good  fighters. 
They  were  dressed  in  plain  flowing  garments,  wore  massive  tur- 
bans, and  were  profoundly  respectful  to  the  viceroy,  but  had  none 
of  that  servile  manner  which  characterizes  those  who  live  on 
plains.  They  were  being  carried  over  the  country  at  the  expense 
of  the  government  in  a  sort  of  pleasure  excursion,  for  the  purpose, 
I  suspect,  of  impressing  them  with  English  power. 

The  next  night  we  attended  the  ball.  It  wa^  a  very  brilliant 
afTair.  The  ballrooms  occupy  the  entire  third  story  of  the  large 
palace.  The  consular  representatives,  except  our  own,  were  in 
state  dress.  The  large  number  of  ofificers  in  their  red  coats  cov- 
ered with  gold  lace  and  cords  were  very  bright  and  rich  in  appear- 
ance, and  did  more  t^  make  the  room  brilliant  than  did  the 
beautiful  dresses  of  the  ladies.  Many  of  these,  however,  were  in 
gorgeous  array  and  wore  many  diamonds,  and  some  of  great  cost. 
A  native  lady,  the  Maharanne,  the  pretty  wife  of  Maharajah 
Kuch  Behar,  wore  diamonds  of  great  beauty  and  enormous 
value.  Lord  DufTerin's  court  dress  was  very  rich,  and  the  costume 
of  the  Countess  was  both  beautiful  and  costly — jewels  on  her  neck, 
and  a  coronet  of  stars  in  brilliants  lifting  from  her  brow.  The 
governors  of  Bengal  and  Bombay  were  over  for  the  occasion,  and 
both  in  court  dress.  Lady  Reay,  wife  of  Bombay's  governor,  was 
beautifully  attired.  Lady  Dufferin  presented  me.  She  kindly 
invited  me  to  call  when  in  Bombay.  Taken  altogether,  the  ball 
was  most  brilliant.  In  the  dining-room,  on  the  main  floor,  a  buf- 
fet was  spread  during  the  whole  evening.  Champagne  and  other 
wines  were  freely  offered.  A  little  after  12,  all  went  to  the  rooms 
in  the  entresol  to  a  full  supper,  at  tables  where  all  could  be  seated. 
These  rooms  are  large  enough  to  seat  1,000.  The  menu  was  ex- 
tensive, and  champagne  flowed  recklessly.  When  the  viceroyal 
party  and  the  governor  left,  all  arose  and  stood  till  they  had  gone 
out. 

When  taking  my  leave  I  asked  Countess  Dufferin  if  she  had  any 
message  to  send  to  America.     Her  handsome  face  beamed  with  a 


I 


A   STATE  BALL. 


191 


bright  smile  when  she  said  :  "  Tell  the  people  of  America  I  have 
a  warm  place  in  my  heart  for  them."  The  Earl,  when  shaking  my 
hand,  said  the  thing  he  most  missed  here  was  "the  ability  to  run 
over  the  line,  as  he  often  did  from  Canada,  to  get  the  warm  treat- 
ment he  always  received  from  Americans."  He  certainly  possesses 
tact,  and  a  kindly  heartiness  with  it. 

On  leaving  I  saw  a  thing  qucerly  Oriental.  The  entrance  to  the 
palace  is  on  the  ground-floor  in  an  archway  under  the  great  por- 
tico and  steps,  which  are  used  alone  for  state  purposes.  Along 
the  outer  wall  of  this  archway,  there  were  facing  us  200 
footmen  or  runners,  squatted  down  upon  their  haunches  in 
four  long  rows,  as  close  as  they  could  be  packed,  like  so  many 
frogs.  They  were  awaiting  their  respective  masters  to  run  before 
or  beside  their  carriages  going  homeward.  Style  is  somewhat 
measured  by  the  number  of  runners.  They  looked  bright  in  their 
many  colored  turbans  and  various  wrappings,  but  presented  a 
most  grotesque  picture.  I  wrote  till  near  daylight  and  every  now 
and  then  paused  to  listen  to  the  howling  of  Calcutta's  hundreds, 
if  not  thousands,  of  scavengers — the  night-prowling  jackals. 


h, 


i 


i-'^ 


:* 


*,  I 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


■I  i 


CALCUTTA  TO  BEXARES— THE  HOI.V  CITY  AND  PILGRIMS— SACRED 

BATHING,  AND  la'KNINC;  GOKl'SES— SAKNAITI   AND 

UUDDlilSM— LUCKNOW  AND  CAWNl'OKE. 


%       ) 


'   l)i 


Agra,  India,  January  20,   1888. 

From  Calcutta  to  Benares  by  rail  is  556  miles.  The  country 
at  first,  for  100  and  more  miles,  is  in  general  appearance  and 
production  practically  the  same  as  that  on  the  road  to  Darjeeling, 
already  described — a  great  flat  plain  with  only  a  single  eleva- 
tion— a  short  range  of  low  hills  lifting  in  a  single  ridge  from  the 
dead  level.  After  running  100  and  odd  miles  the  plain  looks 
ven,-  unproductive.  The  soil  is  a  light-gray,  and  in  the  short  cut 
rice  paddies  looks  as  if  it  could  produce  but  little.  Large  num- 
bers of  cattle  were  browsing  in  the  bare  rice-fields  and  unculti- 
vated lands.  How  they  find  any  thing  nourishing  I  could  not  see.. 
The  ground  looked  absolutely  bare,  and  yet  the  poor  brutes  were 
picking  it  over,  if  not  licking  it,  and  had  not  a  starved  condition, 
being  fed,  I  suppose,  night  and  morning.  There  had  been  no 
rain  for  some  months,  and  all  was  dusty.  Much  of  the  land  is  in 
wheat.  It  grows  very  low  in  stalk,  thin  on  the  ground,  and  of 
short  head.  A  couple  of  hundred  miles  from  Calcutta  the  coun- 
try put  on  a  greener  appearance,  in  wheat,  gram,  castor-oil, 
dahl.  pea.  and  poppy.  Some  of  the  fields  of  the  latter  at  a 
distance  in  full  flower  looked  like  snow  fields,  so  white  and  pure 
was  the  bloom.  England  will  require  long  generations  of  piety 
to  undo  her  great  wrong  in  coining  gold  as  she  does  out  of  the 
mania  and  misery  of  so  many  millions.  Like  the  poppy  flower, 
she  boastfully  spreads  to  the  breeze  a  banner  of  light,  while  she 
kills  and  destroys  in  her  greed.  Her  people  decry  the  Yankee 
because  he  has  such  love  for  the  almighty  dollar.  But,  thank 
heaven!  America  as  an  aggregation,  as  a  nation,  has  never 
oppressed  for  gold.  Her  only  semblance  of  a  shame  was  slavery 
fastened  upon  her  by  English  cupidity.  England's  opium  policy 
is  one  of  her  shames.  Preachers  who  believe  in  special  providence 
and  national  retribution  for  national  sins  could  pour  from  the 
pulpit  fearful  anathemas  upon  this  sordid  nation  for  its  crime  in 
encouraging  for  gain  in  gold  the  most  frightful  of  all  degrading 
vices. 

On  the  road  we  passed  near  coal-fields,  said  to  be  rich  both  in 

19a 


n^  I 


BENARES,  THE  HOLY  CITY. 


193 


the  quantity  and  quality  of  the  yield.  For  the  last  100  miles  tow- 
ard Benares  much  of  the  country  was  very  pretty.  The  mango 
and  other  orchards  were  abundant,  and  every  plain  had  its  many 
scattered  trees.  Barley  was  added  as  a  growth,  and  was  well 
headed  and  green.  Hedges,  where  there  were  any,  were  of  a 
prickly  pear  and  cactus.  The  spider  webs  over  them  covered 
with  dust  looked  like  great  gossamer  veils  spread  over  spiky 
frames.  Rows  of  aloes  or  century  plants  lined  tlie  road.  Now 
and  then  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  through  openings  in  the 
trees,  the  prospect  was  that  of  a  perfectly  flat  plain,  relieved  only 
by  trees  and  villages.  One  odd  thing  is  frequently  seen — small 
round  circles  of  mud  wall  topped  by  cactus,  three  to  five  feet 
high,  and  say  fo'  .  to  six  in  diameter,  and  built  for  protection  for 
young  trees.  Tliey  protect  against  intrusion  and  also  against  hot 
sun  rays.  The  railroad  is  a  good  one,  cars  comfortable,  and  sta- 
tions handsome.  Several  fine  school-houses  with  large  and  good 
grounds  were  seen. 

In  18^  hours  we  reached  Benares,  the  Holy  City  of  India;  a 
city  already  old  three  centuries  before  Christ,  and  at  one  time 
consecrated  by  eight  centuries  of  Buddhistic  sway  and  sanctity, 
and  followed  by  17  known  centuries  of  Brahminism.  Here  an- 
nually come  pilgrims,  probably  a  million  or  more,  from  all  parts 
of  India — the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  old  and  the  young,  the  strong 
and  the  decrepit,  crowded  in  railway  cars,  packed  like  hogs,  or 
hobbling  along  dusty  roads,  suffering  every  kind  of  privation, 
spending  the  hoarded  savings  of  years  of  toil,  dirty  and  weary,  for 
they  perform  no  sort  of  ablution  from  the  time  they  leave  their 
far-off  homes  until  they  can  wash  away  tlie  filth  of  the  body  and 
the  pollution  of  the  soul  in  the  cleansing  water  of  the  sacred 
Ganges. 

Here  comes  the  prince  in  his  silken  robes,  with  diamonds  and 
rubies  in  his  coffers,  ready,  if  occasion  arises,  to  have  them  glitter 
upon  his  neck  and  arms ;  and  there  a  poor  farm  peasant  in  a 
scanty  cotton  rag.  Here  the  bold  soldier  who  would  quail  in  the 
presence  of  no  danger,  and  there  the  high-born  woman  who 
trembles  if  looked  upon  by  any  man  not  her  father,  brother,  or 
lord.  They  know  that  disease  is  rife  in  the  midst  of  huge  multi- 
tudes, yet  they  falter  not,  or  rather  come  all  the  more  cheerfully, 
for  to  die  in  the  Holy  City,  to  have  their  cold  limbs  laved  in  holy 
water,  to  be  burned  on  the  banks  of  the  sacred  river,  and  have 
their  ashes  scattered  upon  its  broad  stream — these  things  will  in- 
sure them  a  blessed  eternity.  Strange  faith  !  Unconquered  and 
unconquerable.  Blind,  abject  superstition  !  Slavish  yet  sublime, 
because  of  its  human  intensity.  For  countless  ages  this  thing  has 
been  going  on  year  after  year.  It  began  before  history  had 
learned  to  grave  imperishable  annals.  Its  origin  is  as  impenetra- 
ble as  the  Himalayan  heights,  where  their  ruling  god  sits  in  his 
frozen  home.      Millions  as  countless  as  are  the  sands  reached  by 


^'\ 


m 

'V.      I     ,'.,r.v  11  a,  , 


-.:  V  M 


rk 


m    i  ^    '   i  I'  5;' 


194 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


m: 


the  cvcr-siirt;in£^  swell  of  old  ocean,  have  believed  in  and  per- 
formed these  pious  duties  with  sublime  earnestness.  We  call 
these  things  ^novelling  idolatry.  T/uy  say  our  faith  is  a  silly 
superstition.  Who  can  saj-  to  another  :  My  way  is  all  right,  your 
way  is  all  wrong?  One  thing,  however,  we  can  determine — charit}- 
to  the  opinions  of  others,  and  kindness  and  good-will  to  all,  are 
teachings  of  all  religions  which  acknowledge  a  supreme  ruler,  and 
make  them  all  somewhat  akin  to  the  divine. 

The  railway  enters  Benares  over  a  magnificent  iron  bridge  just 
completed  across  the  Ganges.  It  springs  by  noble  sjians  along 
great  stone  piers,  the  foundations  of  some  of  which  are  sunken 
230  feet  below  the  bed  of  the  river.  We  paused  at  its  northern 
end  to  let  off  several  hundred  i)ilgrims.  A  strange  sight  they 
presented  in  their  various  conditions.  There  were  old  women, 
almost  bent  double  with  infirmities  or  age;  there  Averc  young 
women  with  half-naked  babies  straddled  on  their  hips,  and  lead- 
ing others  but  a  few  years  older;  there  were  proud  men,  of 
noble,  manly  bearing,  and  poor  men,  cringing  and  servile  in  their 
poverty;  there  was  opulent  comfort,  with  servants  bearing  its 
bedding  and  its  fine  gear ;  there  was  abject  poverty  so  weak  that 
it  staggered  under  the  weight  of  a  single  basket  or  bundle  which 
contained  its  owner's  worldly  wealth.  All,  when  stepping  from 
the  crowded  cars,  turned  wistfully  toward  the  hoh- city;  iheir 
eyes  betra\-ed  the  delight  felt  that  now  at  last  they  were  about 
to  bathe  in  this  holiest  of  holy  rivers  ;  and  that  the  bath  would 
cleanse  them  from  earthly  pollution,  and  would  prepare  them  for 
eternal  bliss. 

We  went  a  couple  or  more  miles  to  another  station  behind  the 
town.  There  in  line  were  red-coated  cavalrymen  to  be  an  escort 
of  honor  for  Bombay's  governor,  Lord  Reay,  and  his  lady.  They 
were  conducted  to  a  victoria  drawn  by  four  horses  by  the  heir 
apparent  of  the  Maharajah  of  Benares,  whose  low  turban  cap  was 
wrapped  in  a  cord  of  diamonds  and  pearls,  and  around  whose 
neck  hung  a  necklace  two  or  more  inches  deep,  a  mass  of  enor- 
mous brilliants.  His  dress  was  flashing  in  gold  ar.d  jewels.  His 
sword-hilt  glistened  in  gems.  I  could  not  tell  if  the  jewels  were 
of  first  water.  If  they  were,  then  this  dusky  prince  must  have 
had  a  million  or  more  upon  his  person.  Strange  contrast,  this 
lavish  extravagance  and  luxury,  with  the  poverty,  squalor,  and 
misery  we  had  left  two  miles  below. 

We  found  a  very  nice  hotel.  Hotels  in  India  are  the  product 
of  the  last  few  years.  Early  in  the  morning  we  added  an  egg  to 
our  "  chota  haziri "  (early  breakfast  of  tea  and  coffee  and  bread), 
and  with  a  guide  proceeded  to  the  river,  and  then  on  a  row-boat 
to  see  the  points  of  interest  best  seen  from  the  water.  To  our 
surprise  we  found  the  stream  clear  and  of  a  greenish  tinge.  From 
a  point  nearly  opposite  the  lower  end  of  the  town  it  presents  a 
most  picturesque  appearance.     It  is  built  on  a  bank  60  to  80  feet 


:i 


PILGRIMS  BATHING. 


195 


lii^li  above  the  water,  and  extends  alon^-  this  lieight  fully  three 
miles.  This  entire  stretch  is  covered  with  what  appears  to  he  a 
succession  of  palaces  of  stone,  with  domes,  conical  temples,  and 
minarets  wedged  in  among  them  in  confusion,  yet  artistic  confu- 
sion. Under  many  of  these  palatial  buildings  are  walls  orna- 
mented with  buttresses  and  relieved  by  loop-holes  and  sm.dl 
windows.  They  lift  from  high-water  mark.  Here  ant!  there 
small  temples  of  conical  form  crowd  down  to  the  present  low- 
water  line.  All  of  these  are  of  beautiful  design  and  of  elahor.ite 
ornamentatiiin,  and  some  richly  gilt.  Every  few  hundred 
yards  apparently  coming  out  of  handsome  portals  in  the 
palaces,  are  narrow  Hights  of  steps,  spreading  as  they  descend, 
until  toward  the  water's  edge  they  arc  broad  enough  to  belong 
to  royal  residences.  Now  and  then  arc  elegant  buildings  rising 
out  of  the  water's  edge,  with  their  turreted  upper  stories  still  be- 
low the  buildings  on  the  high  bank.  One  of  these  structures  of 
large  front  has  slid  into  the  river  in  such  way  that  its  rear  is 
sunken  several  feet,  its  well-laid  front,  except  for  one  break, 
looking  as  if  it  had  been  chiselled  from  solid  stone — so  solid  that 
it  has  stootl  for  perhaps  a  century,  and  will  yet  last  for  otln.r 
centuries  in  spite  of  being  fully  30  degrees  out  of  level.  Crowtls 
of  people  were  descending  or  ascending  these  many  flights  of 
steps;  and  in  front  of  them  were  hundreds  bathing  in  the  sacred 
stream.  Our  boat  was  broad-keeled,  with  a  sort  of  arched  roof, 
on  which  we  sat,  while  several  oarsmen  slowly  stemmed  the  strong 
current  close  to  the  bathers. 

The  view  of  the  city  from  the  distance  was  very  fine,  and  the 
bathing  pilgrims  when  closely  seen  were  wonderfully  strange  and 
interesting.  They  were  of  all  ages  and  of  both  sexes,  and  of  many 
conditions:  the  well-to-do  and  the  very  poorest;  the  most  robust 
and  the  emaciated  and  diseased;  the  most  athletic — their  half- 
naked  forms  fit  models  for  a  sculptor's  chisel, — and  the  deformed 
and  shrunken-limbed  ascetic.  Some  sprang  down  the  long 
flights  of  steps  as  if  fatigue  had  never  been  known  ;  others  were 
tottering  and  leaning  upon  long  staffs,  or  were  supported  by 
friends  or  servants.  Some  entered  the  water  with  joyous  faces, 
and  eyes  sparkling  with  hope;  others  slowly  and  reverently,  as 
if  they  could  scarcely  be  sufficiently  thankful  and  humble  enough 
for  the  boon  they  were  about  to  enjoy.  After  wading  out  to 
nearly  waist-deep,  all  would  place  their  hands  reverently  to- 
gether before  them,  utter  a  prayer,  evidently  in  deep  earnest- 
ness, and  then  dip  themselves,  generally,  I  thought,  three  times. 
After  this  they  washed  themselves  with  great  care,  scraping  the 
bottoms  of  the  feet,  and  scrubbing  the  inside  of  the  mouth  as  if 
doing  their  best  to  take  some  thing  out  of  it.  Many  had  flow- 
ers as  offerings  ;  these  they  threw  in  one  by  one  as  they  prayed. 

The  stairways  of  which  I  spoke  are  the  ends  of  narrow  streets 


'<.' 


> 


Ji'i^ 


WA 


WW" 


and  are  called  "  ghats, 


and  all  bearing  individual  names. 


The 


196 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


M'K 


\m  % 


■^' 


several  sects  bathe  at  different  "  ghats."  Many  of  those  we  saw- 
were  so  weak  from  age  or  from  disease  that  they  must  have  suf- 
fered to  no  small  extent  ;n  the  chill  water  of  this  season.  But 
no  amount  of  chill  would  ca  ise  them  to  abstain.  Persons  about 
to  die  are  brougiit  to  the  stream  to  expire  with  their  feet  in  the 
water.  After  cleansing  themselves  the  pilgrims  wash  their  gar- 
ments and  fill  a  vessel  with  water  to  sprinkle  with  it  certain  of 
the  statues  or  figures  of  gods  in  the  city  ;  for  the  wily  priest  has 
fully  impressed  all  with  the  benefit  arising  from,  or  tiie  necessity 
of,  vi-^iting  its  many  sanctuaries  and  receive  fees  for  their  holy- 
ministrations.  Before  departing  for  their  homes  all  have  certain 
marks  put  upon  their  foreheads  by  the  priests,  to  show  that  the 
great  pilgrimage  has  been  made.  There  are  now  large  numbers 
of  pilgrims  in  the  city,  but  we  were  advised  to  remain  a>  few  days 
longer,  until,  owing  to  the  eclipse  of  the  moon,  there  would  be  at 
least  100,000  more  than  usual. 

At  three  of  the  ghats  crematory  piles  were  erected  ;  at  each  of 
two  there  was  one  body,  but  at  the  other,  five  pyres  were  burn- 
ing, and  two  other  corpses  were  wrapped  in  white  cloth,  one  ly- 
ing with  the  lower  limbs  in  the  water,  to  be  cremated  when  tlie 
pile  should  be  ready.  A  sewer  from  the  city  was  emptying  its 
reeking,  filthy  sewage  into  the  river  not  20  feet  above  the  spot 
where  the  body  was  lying,  and  several  bathers  were  gulping 
down  great  mouthfuls  of  the  water  about  ten  feet  below  the 
dead  body  ; — strange  infatuation  I  Not  far  from  this  and  above 
it  was  a  deep  tank  in  which  was  as  nasty  a  compouid  as  one 
could  imagine; — it  was,  say,  1 5  by  30  feet  in  dimensions.  Its 
waters  had  not  been  changed  for  months.  Thousands  have 
bathed  in  it,  and  great  quantities  of  marigolds,  and  other  flowers, 
milk,  and  confections  are  daily  thrown  into  it  as  offerings,  until  it 
looks  as  fetid  as  a  cesspool  ;  yet  dainty  women,  whose  necks, 
arms,  and  an'  es  ate  weighted  down  with  rarest  jewels,  lay  aside 
their  outer  .  .rments  of  embroidered  gauze  and  silk,  and  lave 
their  faces  and  rounded  forms  in  the  stinking  slime,  and  believe 
themselves  washed  from  impurities,  and  are  followed  by  withered 
old  men  and  women,  whose  very  forms  seem  reeking  with  fetid 
disease. 

We  rowed  slowly  up  the  city's  front,  now  on  close  observation 
bereft  of  much  of  its  picturesque  beauty,  for  the  majority  of  the 
palatial  buildings  are  in  more  or  less  dilapidated  condition,  not 
observable  from  a  more  distant  view.  These  fine  places  are  resi- 
dences built  by  rajahs  and  other  Indian  princes  from  every  part 
of  the  land,  and  arc  occupied  when  the  owners  come  to  use  the 
holy  water,  and,  if  possible,  to  be  the  places  in  which  they  may 
take  their  flight  from  sublunary  things.  One  very  pretty  and 
costly  edifice  was  the  property  of  Nana  Sahib,  the  butcher  of 
1857.  After  going  up  stream  to  the  last  ghat,  we  descended  near 
the  farther  shore,  but  the  illusion  had  been  somewhat  marred  by 


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SAJiXATH  A\D  /H'DDIf/S.\f. 


197 


tlic  too  close  observ.ition.  Yet  I  shall  always  remember  Benares 
as  one  of  the  iiicturesqiie  cities  of  the  world. 

Wc  visited  nuny  parts  of  the  city  and  the  sacred  wells,  and 
Johnnie  came  to  tiie  conclusion  that  one  of  the  bi^,'  baboons  at 
the  monkey  temple,  which  slip|)ed  up  behind  him  and  snatched 
a  ^'iiava  from  his  hand,  was  slicker  even  than  an  Italian  boot- 
black from  the  neighborhood  of  the  levee  in  Chicago.  One 
])cculiar  Nepaulese  temple  which  we  saw,  is  styled  "  jjicturesque," 
from  a  frieze  of  queer  ornamentations,  which  lady  travellers  arc 
never  shown.  Our  fjnide,  an  orthodox-  IJrahmin,  ^Mve  with  much 
j,nisto  a  racy  explanation  of  them,  evidently  ^dad  to  hit  hard  the 
schismatic  worshippers.  From  the  lofty  minaret  of  a  mostiuc 
close  by  the  river,  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  compactly  built 
native  city  anil  the  country  for  many  miles  round,  ^ncen  in  barley 
and  ^rain,  and  studded  by  clumps  of  troiical  fruit-trees.  I  did 
not  enjoy  tiiis  as  much  as  I  would  have  duue  a  few  years  ago,  for 
it  is  hard  {or  a  man  of  63  to  climb  150  feet  over  high  steps,  not 
two  feet  wide,  winding  around  a  spindle  only  16  inches  in  diameter. 

This  city  is  noted  for  its  workers  in  brass,  many  of  tiieir  prod- 
ucts being  as  beautiful  as  chased  gold,  and  costing  less  than 
Hritannia  ware  with  us.  We  could  have  spent  several  days  here, 
but  the  sun  will  be  north  of  the  ecpiator  before  we  shall  be  out 
of  India.  At  the  station  we  found  the  Governor  of  Bombay  was 
again  to  be  our  co-traveller.  The  young  Hindoo  heir  to  the 
maharajahship  was  there  to  sec  him  off.  When  he  had  seen  his 
visitors  seated  he  happened  to  stop  near  where  we  were  standing. 
I  had  never  shaken  hands  with  a  man  whose  garments  glistened 
with  Si,0OO,cxx)  worth  of  diamonds.  I  boldly  walked  up  to  him 
and  introduced  myself.  He  seemed  really  glad  to  meet  an 
American,  and  regretted  I  was  going  away,  saying  that  he  would 
be  glad  to  see  me  again.  The  boys  declared  1  had  exhibited 
"  gall  "  quite  worthy  of  Chicago. 

liut  I  had  nearly  forgotten  to  speak  of  Sarnath,  the  old 
Benares  of  many  centuries  ago.  It  li"s  some  four  miles  out  of 
the  present  city,  and  is  all  cultivated  over,  except  where  great 
heaps  of  broken  brick,  mark  the  spot  where  its  costly  edi- 
fices once  stood.  A  lofty  old  round  tower-looking  structure, 
about  100  feet  in  diameter,  and  over  that  in  height,  solid  mass  of 
brick,  marks  the  spot  where  Gautama  (Siddartha  of  the  Bud- 
dhist) taught  his  creed,  and  probably  beneath  it  were  buried  some 
of  his  bones  or  hair.  A  part  of  its  outer  casing  of  stone  is  in 
good  condition,  e.xhibiting  exquisite  design  and  finish  in  its  elab- 
orate and  intricate  carving.  It  is  said  to  be  over  2,000  years  old, 
and  is  probably  the  original  from  which  the  pagodas  of  Burmah 
were  modelled,  they  however  taking  more  of  a  bell  form.  It  was 
a  touching  thing  to  sit  under  this  old  "  stupa,"  and  go  back  in 
fancy  twenty  odd  centuries,  and  to  imagine  myself  listening  to 
the   gentle  tones  of  the  man  who  abandoned    the  luxuries  of 


KR 


ll\' 


I9S 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  Sl'X 


princely   possessions,   the    iiouer  of    royal    posiuon.    to    become 
Ion"-   vears   a    recluse:    left  the   couch    I'li   which   Vasodara 


lor 


dreamed— "Yasodara  of  a  form  of  heavenlx-  mould:  a  gait  like 
Pariili's  :  eyes  like  a  hind's  in  love  time  ;  face  so  fair  words  can- 
ni)t  })aint  its  si^ell  "  ;  the  idolized  Prince  abandoned  all,  that  he 
mi'^ht  si)in  from  his  brain  the  thread  which  was  to  bind  and  unite 
man  to  his  God.  "  In  a  wild  and  desolate  spot  far  removed  from 
men's  abode,  the  brown  sands  his  seat,  the  blue  sky  his  only 
covering,  for  long  years,  in  silent  meditation,  Siddartha — 

"  I.iiril  r.u'lillia,  '•ate  the  <^corcliinp  fiimmers  thniu:;!], 
The  (lri\iiii;  raiii'-,  the  chilly  ila\Mi>  .-mkI  evi-  ; 
Wearing  for  all  men'-.  >ake  the  yelhnv  fbe  ; 
Eatiiii;  ill  liej;t;ar'-<  i;iii-c  the  scanty  meal 
ChaiKe-gathereil  frmn  the  .haritalile  ;  at  niglit 
C'<nn-hLil  ill  f;ra~-,  Immele^s.  alone  ;  while  yelpeil 
The  sleeph'      jaLkals  rouivl  his  iav>t,  or  toughs 
Oi  lauiiblied  li^er  from  the  thicket  broke. 

SiiliiUiing  that  fair  hoily  horn  for  Mi»s 

With  fast  anil  frc'iueiit  watch  ami  search  intense 

Of  ^il^-iit  meditation,  ^o  [irolongeil 

'I'hal  at  times  uhile  he  miiseil — as  motionlc^v 

As  the  lixeil  rock  his  --tat — the  s^inirre!  leaped 

L'poii  his  kiuc,  the  timid  (Hiail  led  fortli 

Ilcr  brood  between  his  feel,  and  blue  (love-  ]iicked 

'i'lie  rice-graiiis  froni  the  lio«l  beside  his  hand   " — 

and  who,  after  he  believed  he  had  found  the  suft,  silken  bond, 
g.ive  himself  up  to  a  life  of  labor  and  deprivation,  while  lie 
preached  liis  beautiful  philosoph\%  teaching  loveliness  of  spirit, 
absolute  jnirity  of  life,  love  to  God,  and  a  bouudless  charity  tow- 
;i:-d  :ill  li\ing  things.  Mere,  close  by,  he  lived  for  many  years, 
])reaching  a  religion  which  has  more  votaries  than  an\-  other 
faith  j)rofesseil  b)'  men  ;  here  he  preached  that  cxtiuisite  charity 
which  can  give  pain  to  nothing  breathing:  which  can  take  life 
from  nothing  into  which  God  h;is  blown  the  breath  of  life:  which 
te;iclKs  that  no  living  thing  is  so  degraded  that  it  may  riot  hold 
a  so'.il  wiiich  God  has  created  and  whii  h  can  ne\er  die.  Here  he 
lived,  wii;>  to-tla\'  is  worsln'iiped  1k'  d-iintless  millions  as  a  god. 
Here  he  walked  and  here  he  sat,  uttering  those  ma.xims  which 
soon  cr\  st.illized  into  a  faith,  and  is  claimed  to  be  tlie  '•  Light  of 
Asia."  I  sat  and  thought.  Around  me  were  more  than  a  dozen 
'ittle  bo_\-s  and  girls,  bright,  but  all  begging — lithe,  healthy  and 
I'rctty.  but  all  steeped  in  poverty  and  gnorance,  and  all  followers 
•  f  Huddha,  or  rather  the  children  of  his  followers.  How  much 
had  his  teachings  to  do  with  their  degradation?  Though  his 
])hiiosophy  be  so  beautiful:  though  his  religion  be  so  full  of 
charity— that  quality  which  proves  that  man  is  akin  to  Deity; — 
though  he  taught  love  for  God  and  for  every  thing  lie  has  cre- 
ated, yet  his  religion   has  depressed  and   repressed   his   followers. 


T 


LIGH2   OF  ASIA. 


199 


He  tautjht  that  a  life  of  purity  was  a  liiu  of  tranquillity  ami  of 
calm,  inactive  reflection. 

"Waw  must  cop.stantl}  step  forward.  He  must  not  stand  still. 
riie  moment  he  pauses  in  an  upward  and  onward  pro_L,nxss,  that 
moment  the  dead  weights  of  the  earth,  from  which  he  spranij, 
bcyin  to  pull  him  downward.  Mis  mental  as  well  as  his  physi- 
cal being  sprang  from  a  germ  of  life, — side  by  side  with  which 
was  the  germ  of  decay.  When  growth  stops  decay  begins  its 
deadly  work.  Gautama  may  have  caused  the  "  Liglit  of  Asia"  to 
spread  over  the  mighty  East.  It  was  a  light,  beautiful,  poetic, 
calm,  and  sweet,  but  it  was  not  a  light  which  warms  the  torpid 
into  activity.  It  lacked  glow  and  warmth.  The  pale  moon  rises 
in  the  east,  sjireads  its  mild  light  over  a  sleeping  w  orld,  and  all 
nature  continues  its  slumber.  The  sun  rises;  its  intense  ra}-s 
not  (inly  light  but  warm  nature,  and  all  its  children  awaken  from 
slumber  into  activit}',  man  and  beast,  tree  antl  llower.  Ikiddhism 
may  have  oeen  a  "  Light  of  Asia,"  but  it  was  not  till,  close  to  the 
Mediterranean,  a  new  and  Letter  brightness  was  born,  that  "The 
Light  of  the  world  "  arose.  Under  the  one  light — the  sweet,  calm 
moonlight — the  earth  lies  in  the  lap  of  a  letharg)-,  from  whicii  it 
may  not  for  ages  free  itself.  Under  the  other — tiie  warm,  burn- 
ing sunlight — the  west  marches  with  giant  .:trides. 

Among  the  debris  of  old  Sarnath,  growing  from  a  poor  soil, 
half  made  of  broken  brick,  there  is  a  scanty  growth  of  grass, 
\er)'  tlnn  and  now  without  a  spear  over  an  inch  long.  We  saw 
men  and  women  with  a  .sort  of  cliiscl  cutting  this  meagre  grass 
up  by  the  root=  tor  food  for  cattle.  A  man  cannot  gather  two 
bushels  of  this  in  a  day.  i\\\\\  yet  these  men  live.  Ah  I  the 
changelcs.-  Mas^  Is  t'.iere  no  resurrection  for  its  povert}--stricken 
children?  When  will  there  be  a  dawn  from  the  true  light,  not  of 
Asia  bu*.  of  the  world  ? 

From  Calcutta  to  Benares  we  had  passed  over  500  and  odd  miles 
of  llat  land  denseU'  popidated.  Tiie  peasants  were  as  poor  as 
people  can  be  ami  live.  The  villages  were  miserable  mud  huts, 
o>.  rather  hovels.  They  tlraw  water  from  wells  in  buckets, 
either  by  their  own  hands  or  with  oxen  yoked  to  the  long 
well-rope,  to  fill  the  ditches  which  irrii^  '.te  the  fields,  or  they 
scoop  it  from  bayous  or  canals  with  canoe-like  troughs,  one 
end  of  the  trough  being  at  the  edge  of  the  ditch,  the  other 
end  dipping  into  the  water,  and  lifted  by  a  sweep  like  the  old 
well-sweeps  at  home,  long  since  discarded  as  being  too  labori- 
ous and  slow  a  process  even  for  supplying  the  kitchen  and  the 
wash-tub.  These  people  cut  their  rice  and  wheat  with  a  knif  j 
hardly  half  so  good  as  the  reap-hook  of  our  grandfathers. 
They  thresh  out  the  grain  by  whijiping  the  sheaf  over  a  stone 
or  by  beating  it  with  bamboo  flails,  and  winnow  it  by  throw  in  g^ 
it  into  the  air,  over  a  dirt  floor.  They  carry  the  v;innowe«.t  croj) 
to  market  on  the  backs  of  bullocks  or  little  asses,  or  if  thev  be 


:    . 


in 


hi 


200 


A  RACE  U'JTII  THE  SUN. 


/< 


of  a  rich'jr  class,  i  i  wooden-wheeled  (all  wood)  carts  built  on 
models  in  use  centuries  ago.  With  boundless  plains  where  for- 
ests might  be  grown,  they  cook  their  meals  over  fires  made  of 
burnt  straw  and  grass,  or  of  cakes  of  dried  cow  droppings.  This 
they  gather  up  and  knead  with  their  hands,  and  then  cover  the 
sides  of  tiie  houses  with  the  dainty  cakes  to  dry,  as  we  ornament 
our  parlor  wails  witli  pretty  placques.  The  cow  and  the  goat, 
the  buffalo  and  the  sheep,  the  donkey  and  the  chicken  all  share 
with  the  master  his  miserable  abode,  faring  as  does  his  wife  and 
his  little  naked  ones,  only  having  a  larger  share  ot  the  house  for 
their  sleeping-rooms.  When  will  the  real  "  Light  of  Asia  "  arise 
for  its  poor  and  miserable  children? 

On  a  train  crowded  with  pilgrims,  all  with  marks  upon  their 
foreheads,  proving  that  they  had  satisfied  the  priests  of  holy 
I'.enares,  we  traversed  a  countrj'  in  no  way  different  frcjm  that 
we  had  seen  a  few  days  before,  and  after  a  run  of  190  odd  miles 
reached  Lucknow,  famous  in  song  and  in  the  history  of  the  fights 
of  1S57.  It  was  the  capital  of  Oude,  or  properly,  "  Oudh,"  and 
with  its  250,000  people  docs  a  large  amount  of  Indian  produc- 
tion— carpet  and  brasswork,  gold  lace  and  embroidery  and  tinsel. 
It  was  the  glory  of  its  kings,  until,  after  the  mutiny,  it  was 
swept  into  the  absolute  ownership  of  the  sea-girt  kingdom  of  the 
west.  Its  people  were  poor  and  oppressed,  but  its  kings  sup- 
l-iorted  a  luxury  and  jewelled  magnificence,  unsurpassed  in  India 
since  the  mogul  sultans  built  mausoleums  at  a  cost  of  countless 
millions  in  honor  of  their  dead  cpieens.  The  remains  of  mag- 
nificent palaces  and  splendid  tombs  attest  its  former  grandeur. 

A  great  many,  if  not  all,  of  the  king's  residences  have  been 
razed  to  the  ground,  but  a  vast  quadrangle  of  jjalatial  edifices 
and  detached  palaces — the  homes  of  the  begums  (queens)  and 
their  great  retinue  of  attending  ladies  and  their  servants —show 
that  the  late  king,  for  so  many  years  a  state  prisoner  at  Calcutta, 
had  good  reasons  for  regretting  his  former  splendor,  and  for  ha- 
ting his  cIes|)oilers.  IL' had  no  hand  in  the  mutiny  of  '57,  and 
was  known  to  be  friendly  to  England.  But  his  independent 
kingdom,  with  its  14,000,000  of  people,  ready  to  be  led  by 
ambitious  intriguers,  was  dangerous  t*^  the  peace  of  India,  and 
England,  which  rarel\-  hesitates  when  her  policy  requires  the  de- 
struction of  a  power  which  may  become  liostile,  gave  to  the  king 
a  city  for  his  prison  bounds,  and  added  his  jewels  and  posses- 
sions to  the  diadem  soon  to  deck  an  empress'  brow.  Several  of 
the  mausoleums  and  mosques  of  Lucknow  are  exceedingly  fine 
and  well  repay  a  visit,  and  the  crowded,  narrow  streets  of  its  na- 
tive quarters  give  food  for  more  than  one  day's  digestion. 

We  gave  a  day  to  Cawnpo/e,  30  miles  farther  on.  This  is  a 
city  of  140.000  souls,  has  a  large  native  leather  industry  and  some 
fine  rice  mills,  and  a  jute  manufactory  which  was  very  interest- 
ing,  and    where  we  had   an    opportunity    of    watching    nimble- 


%"<] 


CA  WNPORE.     NANA  SAHIB'S  CRIME. 


201 


finfrered  boys  and  men  mingling  with  the  buzz  and  whirl  of 
steam-driven  machinery.  \Vc  drove  over  the  vast  military  can- 
tonment ;  admired  its  comfortable  officers'  bungalows,  and  its 
long  line  of  large  two-story  barracks,  arranged  en  echelon  on  one 
side  of  the  great  parade-ground.  Here  the  furv  of  the  mutiny 
was  unrelenting,  and  the  tiger-like  heart  of  Nana  Sahib  had  an 
opportunity  to  exhibit  its  ferocious  quality.  I  stood  by  the 
monument  which  covers  the  great  well  into  which  he  hurled  700 
men,  women  and  children— unoffending  non-combatants,  mur- 
dered in  cold  blood— and  many  thrown  in  while  yet  alive,  some 
of  the  children  as  yet  unhurt.  I  then  ceased  to  wonder  at  the 
bitter  feeling  so  many  English  here  have  for  the  natives.  The 
memory  of  the  butcheries  of  '57  is  j-et  fresh  in  their  hearts.  A 
colossal  winged  angel  in  pure  white  stands  over  the  spot,  and  in 
marblv.-  beauty  looks  down  with  touching  nity,  which  every  one 
must  feel  who  recalls  the  horrible  massacre. 

From  Cawnpore  tu  Agra,  107  miles,  we  travelled  by  night. 


ft 


■(  ■  ■  ^ 


;,  H 


tl  i:  1  «        I 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LAHORE   TO   rESIIAWUR— CENTRAL   ASIATICS— WESTERN   IIIMA- 
LAVAS'   >.ASIIMIR— A  WILD   RIDE. 


i'  t 


ti 


Pi 


]    , 


111  I 


Pesha7znir,  India,  yanuary  30,  188S. 

I  AM  writing  this  at  Pcsliawur,  about  1,600  miles  to  the  north- 
west of  Calcutta,  and  close  to  the  border-line  of  Afghanistan,  that 
Lcne  of  contention  on  which  Russia  and  England  have  been  so 
long  moutning,  and  over  which  they  will  growl  for  probably  many 
years  to  come.  We  have  passed  through  the  heart  of  the  mighty 
empire  of  the  moguls  of  Ilindoostan,  whose  luxury  and  sjjlendor 
made  the  fairy  talcs  of  the  1,001  Arabian  Nights  a  reality, 
and  has  furnished  to  the  minds  of  Europeans  and  Americans 
their  idea  and  iilcal  of  "  Orientalism."  We  liave  passed  daj's  in 
studying  the  remains  of  their  palaces,  thrones,  and  tombs,  monu- 
ments of  a  magnificence  which  makes  Moore's  gorgeous  lines 
truthful  descriptions  rather  than  dreams  of  Hibernian  imagination. 
We  have  visited  their  three  capitals,  Agra  in  the  south,  Delhi  the 
central,  and  Lahore  in  the  north.  In  these  they  built  palaces 
and  mosques  which  are  dreams  of  beauty,  inlaying  their  stone  or 
alabaster  walls  with  precious  marbles.  They  built  thrones  for 
themselves  and  tombs  for  their  predecessor  or  their  queens,  of 
an  architectural  beauty  never  excelled,  with  gems  and  jewels  for 
adornment,  and  lavished  ujion  them  in  elaborate  finish  the  spoils 
of  conquered  kingdoms.  Although  tlic  bulk  f)f  the  work  per- 
formed in  building  these  structures  was  that  of  the  unpai<'  multi- 
tude, yet  so  rich  were  they  in  construction  that  milli'.ns  wcie 
expended  to  furnish  material  which  could  not  be  cryst"'.n'zed  from 
the  sweat  of  the  down-trodden  people.  One  is  almost  lost  in 
amazement  that  men,  though  kingn,  could  be  so  reckless  in  their 
extravagance,  and  can  account  for  it  only  by  recalling  the  fact 
that  in  their  veins  flowed  the  blood  of  Genghis  Khan  and  Tiniur, 
whose  visions  of  splendor  were  as  boundless  as  the  vast  steppes 
in  which  they  were  born,  and  whose  lu.xuriousncss  was  in  reverse 
proportion  to  the  poverty  cf  their  past.  They  we;  ■  like  beggars 
mounted  upon  winged  steeds. 

We  have  tried  to  move  as  leisurely  as  was  compatible  with 
what  we  had  to  do  within  a  given  period,  but  so  thick  are  the 
relics  of  past  grandeur  that  they  have  been  constantly  crowding 

302 


v<  *■ 


INDIAN  WHEAT. 


203 


upon  us,  and  arc  still  so  crowding  our  memories  that  I  would  not 
hazard  the  attempt  to  tell  of  them  were  I  not  reminded  of  Shake- 
speare's advice  to  the  traveller  :  "  Think  of  thy  friends  when  hap- 
pily thou  seest  some  noteworthy  object  in  thy  travels,  and  wish 
them  partakers  of  thy  happiness." 

\Vc  found  the  same  flat  country  which  I  mentioned  in  my  last, 
and  the  same  productions,  except  as  they  gradually  changed  from 
those  of  the  torrid  zone  to  those  of  the  more  temperate  as  we 
moved  northerly;  rice  became  scarcer,  until  it  disappeared  almost 
entirely,  and  wheat  more  and  more  took  its  place,  and  other  small 
grain  and  seed  replaced  the  sugar-cane,  which  is  grown,  however, 
far  north,  but  rather  for  fodder  and  for  being  eaten  green  than 
for  grinding.  //  seems  to  be  the  favorite  sweet  of  all  Indian  peo- 
ple, and  sticks  of  it  are  everywhere  seen  in  the  hands  of  men, 
women,  and  children,  who  bite  it  off  as  they  walk,  and  up  farther 
north  it  is  peeled  and  cut  into  short  bits  and  sold  like  candy. 
Near  the  city,  where  elephants  are  used,  its  leaves  are  their  prin- 
cipal food.  Large  areas  appeared  planted  in  wheat  after  we  left 
Delhi,  until,  on  reaching  the  Punjab  country,  it  is  seen  in  broad 
expanses.  This  is  not,  however,  because  of  large  farms,  for  there 
are  no  such  things  in  India,  but  there  being  no  distinct  demarka- 
tion  between  the  lands  of  different  owners,  many  fields  appear  as 
one. 

At  Delhi  we  had  our  first  rain  since  leaving  the  neighborhood 
of  the  equator.  It  continued  for  three  days  and  extended  over 
all  northern  India.  It  saved  the  wheat  crop  of  this  great  com- 
petitor of  our  wide  prairies.  There  had  been  no  rain  since  Oc- 
tober, and  there  was  good  reason  for  fearing  that  the  spring  har- 
vest would  be  a  total  failure.  We  noticed  the  change  immediately, 
even  from  the  railway  windows.  There  are  two  crops  a  \'ear  here, 
one  sown  in  October  and  harvested  in  early  spring ;  the  other  in 
May  and  harvested  in  August. 

Our  farmers  need  never  fear  Indian  competition  in  good  wheat. 
These  people  are  too  slovenly  in  their  manner  of  cleaning  it  ever 
to  send  a  good  article  to  England,  and,  as  the  commissioner 
(governor)  of  this  district  told  me,  they  will  not  change  their 
habits.  They  hand-weed  the  fields,  so  that  no  foreign  seeds  mix 
with  the  wheat,  but  they  clean  it  on  the  ground,  and  the  middle- 
men throw  in  dirt  and  coarse  sand  to  increase  the  weight.  We 
have  examined  quite  a  quantity  here  in  Peshawur  ir  bags  in  the 
bazaar  and  found  it  shamefully  dirty.  One  seller  \i-anted  us  to 
buy.  I  told  him  we  were  from  Chicago  in  America.  He  inno- 
ce  itl\-  assured  me  that  he  would  make  his  bags  tight  so  that  it 
cculd  be  t.iken  home  with  us.  I  will  explain  that,  in  hand-weed- 
irg  fields,  every  thing  is  saved;  what  is  pulled  up  becomes  food 
fo'- cattle.  /lUother  thing  will  ultimately  tell  against  India  as  a 
wheat  country.  IManure  is  carefully  picked  up  and  dried  for  fuel. 
The  land  needs  it  and  cannot  get  it,  and  cannot  continue  wheat- 


i 


V) 


N.iJi 


'I 


III 

1; 


204 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUX. 


1',^  i* 


% 


*:i  f 


S  •■'!', 


III! 


producing.  Rice  takes  the  bulk  of  its  nourishment  from  water, 
and  thrives  on  land  which  cannot  produce  wheat.  Trees  aro 
scarce ;  leaves,  coarse  grass,  and  excrement  of  cattle  keep  tlu» 
natives  in  fuel.  These  people  are  poor  beyond  any  others  I  hav>; 
ever  seen,  and  will  not  become  well  enougli  off  to  become  land 
improvers.  They  are  not  lazy,  they  work  hard  but  keep  them- 
selves poor  by  the  ceremonies  which  their  very  religion  seems  to 
make  necessary  when  their  children  marry.  This  hardly  seems 
credible,  but  they  save  almost  exclusively  for  this  purpose,  and 
cover  themselves  with  debt  and  mortgages  when  savings  prove 
inadequate.  A  man's  importance  in  his  community  seems  to  be 
measured  by  his  display  when  his  children  marry. 

It  is  painful  to  look  into  the  huts  of  the  farmers  and  laborers. 
They  are  mere!)'  mud-walled  pens,  and  lack  every  thing  for  com- 
fort. Here,  to-night,  I  am  shivering  in  the  house  before  a  wood 
fire,  yet  I  am  well  clad.  These  people  wear  little  more  than  a 
light  cotton  cloth,  and  fire-places  and  chimneys  are  unknown  in 
the  native  house.  They  wrap  up  their  heads  and  vital  parts  of 
the  body  leaving  the  legs  nearly  bare,  and  rarely  cover  the  feet  at 
all.  They  squat  before  their  little  huts  around  a  mere  skilletful 
of  fire,  and  a  few  put  a  small  pot  of  coals  under  their  cotton  cov- 
ering, and  drawing  this  about  them,  husband  the  scanty  heat.  The 
pay  of  a  cab-  or  cart-driver  is  from  four  to  si.x  rupees  a  month.  A 
rupee  is  worth  at  present  rate  of  exchange  34  cents  of  our  money. 
Out  of  this  he  has  to  clothe  and  feed  himself.  We  give  our  Eng- 
lish-speaking servant  a  rupee,  and  four  annas  a  day  for  food.  An 
anna  is  worth  two  and  one-quarter  cents.  Thus  he  gets  his  food, 
even  while  travelling  with  us,  for  nine  cents  a  day.  But  Ids 
wages  are  quite  princely.  The  pay  of  a  laborer  on  the  construc- 
tion of  railroads  is  three  annas  a  day.  That,  too,  between  this  and 
Lahore,  wliere  there  is  frost  nearly  every  clear  night  from  Decem- 
ber to  February. 

One  can  scarcely  realize  when  passing  through  much  of  this 
country  that  it  is  thickly  peopled.  One  sees  large  areas  of  culti- 
vated lands,  but  apparently  no  houses.  V>\\\.  every  now  and  then, 
half-hidden  among  trees,  one  sees  a  mud  wall  10  to  12  feet  high, 
and  covering  some  hundred  feet,  others  400  or  500  feet  square. 
This  mud  wall  contains  a  farm  hamlet  or  village,  and  has 
within  it  little  hovels  and  cow-yards  for  12,  20,  or  more  fami- 
lies. Women  and  children  constantly  ask  for  "  backshish  " 
(presents').  They  do  it  very  good-naturedly,  and  never  get  angry 
when  we  drive  them  off  with  a  good-humored  thrust  from  our 
canes.  About  the  large  cities  the  old  ruins  cover  many  miles 
more  or  less  cultivated,  and  with  hovels  among  old  crumbling 
.valls.  Along  the  roads  in  these,  children  by  the  dozen  ran  by 
our  carriage  crying  "  backshish  "  in  all  the  tones  possible  to 
youngsters  from  three  years  old  up  to  ten  or  more.  Boys  half- 
naked  ;  girls  with  rings  in  their  cars  and  noses,  and  bracelets  and 


Ill 

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t«  I 


't  I 


<  I 


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i:» 


,1!: 


k 


I, 


INDIAN  WIVES  AND  WIDOWS. 


aoj 


anklets  jingling.  All  have  beautiful  teeth,  and  grin  and  laugh  and 
pat  their  stomachs  to  assure  us  they  are  quite  empt}*,  and  some 
of  them  look  as  if  ready  for  a  collapse.  A  jollier  set  of  beggars 
one  never  saw,  and  quite  able  to  keep  up  with  our  carriage  for  a 
mile.  A  cent  thrown  to  them  makes  them  happy.  A  crack  from 
the  driver's  whip,  if  not  reaching  their  naked  backs,  makes  them 
break  into  a  peal  of  laughter.  None  are  so  poor  that  they  do  not 
put  rings  and  bracelets  on  the  girls.  I  had  a  woman  beg  of  me 
today,  and  yet  she  must  have  had  a  dozen  or  more  of  these  orna- 
ments. Much  of  the  wealth  of  the  family  is  thus  carried  on  the 
females.  When  necessity  pinches,  they  sell  or  pawn  them.  The 
women  are  thus  the  bankers  of  the  men. 

The  women  in  towns  and  villages  above  the  coolie  class  rarely 
show  their  faces,  and  the  better  classes  never.  Some  travellers 
speak  of  their  peeping  at  one  from  under  their  veils,  or  from  behind 
their  latticed  windows,  and  often  coquettishly  lifting  the  veil. 
From  what  I  have  seen  and  can  learn  from  people  who  have  long 
lived  here,  such  coquetries  are  only  indulged  in  by  Nautch  girls 
(dancing  girls)  of  a  low  order  showing  themselves,  or  by  a  still 
worse  class.  The  education  of  a  woman  is  such  that  she  honestly 
thinks  herself  degraded  should  she  permit  her  face  to  be  seen  by 
a  man ;  rarely  is  it  done,  even  to  a  father-in-law  or  brother-in-law, 
especially  if  tlie  brother-in-law  be  older  than  her  husband.  A 
well-to-do  Hindoo,  with  six  brothers  all  younger  than  himself, 
told  me  he  had  seldom  ever  seen  the  face  of  a  single  one  of  his 
sisters-in-law,  and  when  he  had  done  so  it  was  under  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances religiously  permissible.  But  his  brothers  had  seen  his 
wife's  face  oftener.  This  thing  is  not  simply  a  social  custom  ;  it 
is  mixed  up  with  their  religious  requirements.  Religion  hasa  very 
powerful  hold  even  on  the  men,  who  are  generally  more  or  less 
educated,  for  now  common  schools  are  throughout  the  country, 
liut  the  women  are  wholly  uneducated,  except  in  religious  rites 
and  duties.  With  them  their  religion  is  all  despotic  and  powerful, 
leading  them  in  tiie  past  to  the  burning  pile  of  their  dead  husband. 
That,  however,  was  not  always  the  cruel  order  ot  force,  but  was 
frequently  eagerly  sought  by  the  victim,  first  because  she  believed 
it  a  religious  duty,  and  next  because  the  burdens,  depiivations, 
and  self-denials,  forced  upon  a  widow  by  inexorable  religious  and 
social  custom,  made  death  preferable  to  a  life  of  widowhood. 
Many  women  regret  deeply  that  the  government  so  rigidly 
enforced  its  decrees  against  this  self-immolation,  for  through 
it  they  could  not  only  escape  present  misery,  but  they  could  merit 
a  blessed  future.     This  latter  they  lose  if  they  commit  suicide. 

General  education  must  ultimately  break  down  much  of  these 
people's  superstitions  and  conservatism.  But  the  less  the  inter- 
ference with  religious  belief  be  apparent,  the  quicker  will  simple 
education  really  sap  the  very  foundations  of  their  superstitions. 
Mere  argument  rarely  reaches  the  issue.     A  shrewd  Indian  will 


.A^'^ 


I'il 


306 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


lU 


\i    V 


It 


1 7 


argue  with  you,  and  seems  to  be  certain  that  he  has  the  best  of  it. 
He  is  full  of  casuistrj',  and  vain  of  In's  powers. 

I  think  I  called  India  the  land  of  dreams.  I  have  reached  the 
cc)nclusi()n  tliat  more  than  half  of  what  has  been  said  and  written 
of  it  was  tlie  chimera  of  dreams.  Travellers  have  indulged  in 
fancy  when  telling  of  what  they  have  seen,  or  have  taken  excep- 
tional conditions,  and  written  of  them  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
make  the  reader  suppose  they  were  the  rule.  Reatling  their 
books  one  would  think  this  a  land  in  perennial  bloom,  that  the 
monkey  is  seen  everywhere  capering  along  the  roads,  and  that 
brilliant  wild  peacocks  and  other  birds  make  the  wayside  bright 
and  gorgeous.  We  liave  trav'elled  over  3,000  miles  of  Indian 
road,  and  have  not  seen  a  single  wild  monkey  or  pea-fowl,  and 
while  birds  of  bright  plumage  are  often  seen,  they  have  to  be 
closely  watched  to  catch  their  beauty  ;  one  bookmaker  who  wrote 
beautifully,  dilated  upon  the  gorgeous  "  birds  of  paradise  "  seen 
from  car  windows.  I  doubt  if  there  was  ever  one  of  these  birds 
in  India,  either  wild  or  caged.  The  same  exuberance  of  fancy 
has  evc!!  painted  this  as  the  land  of  gems  and  riches.  The 
wealth  of  Ind  has  furnished  the  orator  and  poet  with  similes 
from  the  days  of  Rome  down  to  the  present.  Ale.xander  halted 
at  the  Indus,  which  we  crossed  two  days  ago,  because  his  Greeks 
knew  there  was  more  of  disease  to  be  met  in  the  hot  lands  beyond 
than  of  gold  and  gems  to  furnish  them  plunder. 

India  is  fearfully  poor  to-day,  and  I  find  internal  evidence  that 
it  has  ever  been  so.  There  have  ever  been  the  few  who  coined 
gold  out  ot  muscle,  and  crj'stallized  sweat  into  gems.  The  few 
here  were  perhaps  smaller  than  in  any  other  country.  Tl-.ey  built 
its  palaces  and  tombs  of  wondrous  beauty,  but  there  is  absolutely 
no  sort  of  monument  of  past  peoples  or  masses.  These  have  ever 
lived  in  squalor,  their  mud  houses  melting  under  summer  rains  ; 
their  little  accumulations  vanishing  in  the  smoke  of  their  poor 
funeral  piles.  Oppression  has  so  sunken  into  their  natures  that 
they  have  no  conception  of  any  thing  else.  If  eels  were  half  as 
fond  of  being  skinned  as  ihese  people  are  of  being  ground  down, 
they  would  wiggle  from  tlieir  mud-lioles  into  the  frying-pan. 
Like  spaniels,  these  people  delight  in  licking  the  hand  that  smites 
them.  There  has  been  nothing  in  this  land  to  make  it  one  of 
wealth,  but  everj*  thing  to  make  it  the  opposite.  Its  climate 
enables  its  people  to  live  on  what  would  be  starvation  elsewhere, 
and  to  clothe  themselves  in  the  lightest  garments.  Such  a  people 
never  are  rich.  They  have  been  able  to  manufacture  articles  at 
almost  a  nominal  cost,  whose  rarity  in  Europe  makes  them  of 
great  value,  and  Europe  imagined  these  things  were  riches, 
whereas  their  very  cheapness  here  was  evidence  of  the  poverty  of 
the  country.  Wealth  is  accumulation ;  and  accumulation  is  the 
offspring  of  habits  arising  out  of  the  necessity  of  saving  for  the 
morrow.     There  was  never  such  necessity  in  India. 


t    i 


INDIAN  POVERTY  AND  KINDLl .\  l-.SS. 


207 


England  is  tryiiip;  hard  to  make  its  Indian  sulijccts  prosperous, 
and  to  elevate  tiuni,  but  since  her  first  step  was  taken  in  the  land, 
she  has  found  the  nature  of  the  people  has  a  tendency  to  make 
rulers  corrupt.  A  trial  is  now  t,'oin^  on  in  Lahore,  wiiich  shows 
that  it  is  hanl  even  for  Ens^lish  civil-service  examiners  to  escape 
the  temptation  of  takin;^  bribes,  It  would  be  amusiiiL,'  to  read  the 
testimony  of  cantlidates  for  a  hij^dier  tirade  of  lawyers,  if  it  were  not 
painful  ;  amusin;^  liecause  of  the  simplicity  of  the  people  in  tak- 
ing it  for  granted  tiiat  nothing  can  be  luul  except  for  pay,  and  the 
case  with  whicli  tiicy  invite  themselves  into  traps.  Tlu;  climate 
seems  to  have  acted  on  tiic  people  as  it  does  u|)on  tlu  ir  wooden 
furniture  and  doors.  If  one  twists  in  a  chair,  he  breaks  it  down. 
If  he  moves  a  table  he  is  liable  to  have  it  drop  in  jMeces,  and  I  have 
not  seen  a  door  in  the  lanil  that  fits  as  it  was  made.  In  the  rainy 
season  every  thing  takes  water  as  a  sponge,  and  in  the  dry  months 
it  shrinks  like  a  c.d<e  of  country-made  soap.  It  .acts  in  like  man- 
ner upon  the  moral  nature  of  tlie  flexible  people. 

One  sees  ever\where  throughout  India  one  general  characteris- 
tic, a  sort  of  kindliness  of  disposition  to  man  and  brute.  All 
domestic  animals  are  as  gentle  and  tame  as  fireside  petted  kittens. 
The  cow  and  ass;  the  sheep  and  goat,  the  camel  and  horse,  the 
chicken  and  duck,  all  seem  absolutely  a  part  of  the  famil}'. 
Pigeons  in  flocks  are  frequently  seen  whirling  in  great  circles  in 
the  cities  for  sever.il  minutes,  and  then  swooping  down  upon  cer- 
tain house-tops.  Often  se\-eral  flocks  unite  and  fly  together  and 
then  separate  as  people  do  in  dances.  The  owners  of  the  different 
flocks  are  on  the  tops  of  the  r  respective  houses  waving  flags  and 
directing  the  flights  of  the  birds,  and  by  a  motion  calling  them 
down  to  them.  I  thus  one  day  saw  si.x  different  flocks  flying  at 
once — now  mingling,  then  separating,  and  all  done  under  the 
orders  of  their  respective  owners.  They  are  kept  in  a  sort  of 
coops  on  the  house-tops,  and  are  thus  sent  out  for  e.xercise. 
After  flying  for  a  half  hour  or  so,  they  are  fed  and  quietly  go  into 
their  coops,  and  such  as  are  deemed  fit  for  the  market  are  taken 
out.  One  gets  pigeons  at  almost  every  meal  in  all  cities  here. 
Crows  are  as  tame  as  sparrows  are  with  us.  Indeed,  more  so. 
I  saw  one  in  Calcutta  stealthily  taking  its  meal  fron)  a  quarter  of 
beef  which  a  butcher  had  on  his  head,  and  several  times  have  seen 
one  steal  food  from  a  man's  dish  when  he  was  eating  before  his 
door.  They  come  within  five  or  si.x  feet  of  natives  at  every  rail- 
way station,  but  eye  very  suspiciously  a  foreigner,  and  can  hardly 
be  tempted  with  crumbs  nearer  than  10  or  1 5  feet.  There  are 
vast  numbers  of  them  in  every  part  of  the  land.  In  Burmah  they 
are  black  ;  here  they  have  a  mouse-colored  neck,  and  look  as  if 
they  wore  a  cape. 

A  native  hurts  nothing  if  he  can  help  it.  Ants  are  the  terrible 
pest  of  the  land.  The  white  ant  eats  up  the  houses  and  destroys 
the  trees,  yet  I  have  seen  more  than  one  native  carefully  step  so 


)\    \\ 


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3o8 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


i  1  '  '  ■" 


as  not  to  crusli  these  little  workers,  travcllin!:j  from  their  nest  to 
a  ncighborinjj  tree.  Tlie  lliiuloo,  like  the  Huddhist,  believes  in 
transmigration  of  souls.  Though  lUidilhism  exists  to  only  a  small 
extent  at  the  present  lime  in  India  proper,  yet  when  it  did  e.xist  it 
made  its  teachings  take  a  deep  hold  upon  the  Hrahminical  reli- 
gion, and  has  left  its  traces  throughout  the  land,  very  greatly  soft- 
ening the  cruel  nature  of  the  older  and  more  dominant  theology. 

The  people  from  3ienares  to  the  north  of  Delhi  are  much  more 
stalwart  and  manly  than  are  the  Hengalese,  but  they  in  their  turn 
are  greatly  inferior  to  the  men  of  the  Punjab.  This  word  means 
and  exjjresses  the  country  lying  between  the  five  great  branches 
of  the  Indus.  In  this  country  is  a  magnificent  race  of  men.  The 
Sikh  soldiers  in  the  army  are  the  handsomest  body  of  men  I  have 
ever  seen,  and  indeed  I  liave  never  seen  any  Luropean  or  American 
who  came  any  thing  like  being  as  perfect  model  of  n.anly  beauty 
as  do  many  officers  seen  in  the  native  Sikh  cavalry.  We  witnessed 
the  practice  of  a  native  regiment  at  company  target-->ho(jting  near 
Peshawur.  The  officers  on  horseback  were  simply  superb  ;  afoot 
ail  show  one  universal  defect  among  the  entire  people  of  India — 
an  almost  total  absence  of  calf  to  the  leg.  Even  in  Punjab  men 
and  women  have  none.  I  can  say  this  of  the  women,  because  up 
here  there  are  two  things  (juite  antipodal  to  our  customs.  Men 
wear  what  seem  to  be  skirts  and  the  women  all  wear  trous<  rs — 
and  very  tight  ones,  too,  below  the  knee.  The  other  singular 
thing  is,  one  sees  hundreds  of  men  with  beards  dyed  a  brilliant 
red.  A  gray-bearded  man  is  rarely  seen  from  Lahore  to  Peshawur, 
for  they  take  on  a  bright  vermilion,  evidently  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  concealing  age,  but  as  a  sort  of  beautifier.  This  seems  a 
custom  borroweil  from,  or  at  least  common  with,  the  Afghans  and 
other  people  from  central  Asia. 

The  men  of  Punjab  proved  themselves  brave  by  giving  Eng- 
land harder  fighting  to  subdue  them  than  perhaps  all  the  balance 
of  India.  But  when  once  they  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  their 
new  rulers,  like  brave  men  they  have  shown  themselves  true. 
They  have  little  of  the  servile  demeanor  of  the  Bengalese.  They 
look  a  foreigner  in  the  face — respectfully,  but  with  an  apparent 
consciousness  of  their  own  dignity.  The  English  here,  too,  seem 
to  meet  them  more  as  men  and  less  as  slaves  than  they  do  the 
more  servile  people  of  Bengal.  I  suspect  they  cannot  do 
otherwise. 

Not  only  did  the  people  change  from  those  previously  seen 
but  after  leaving  Lahore  behind  us  a  few  hours  the  face 
of  the  country  became  quite  different.  For  about  lOO  miles 
in  width  along  the  Jhelum  River,  the  earth  is  corrugated  by 
strange  chasms,  fissures,  and  gorges.  The  soil  is  an  exceedingly 
friable  clay.  This  is  rain-washed  into  gullies  of  50  to  loO  feet 
in  depth,  running  in  every  direction,  and  presenting  a  most  gro- 
tesque appearance  ;  great  domes,  and  spires  of  clay ;  walls  with 


li'ESTF.NX  IflMALA  YAS. 


209 


flyiiif:;  buttresses,  cithcdrals,  fortresses  ; — for  miles  and  miles  these 
are  seen,  as  wild  and  picturesque  a  landscape  as  one  can  imagine. 
This  clay  is  now  as  red  as  terra  cotta,  ihen  of  a  yellow  ochre 
color,  then  of  a  brown  and  .1  white,  at  a  distance  resembling  great 
bands  of  woven  stuff  in  different  colors. 

r.irallel  to  the  railroad  ran  often  the  great  trunk  road,  which, 
starting  at  Calcutta  ami  eniling  at  I'eshawur,  I  sup|)ose,  the 
grandest  wagon  road  in  the  world — l,f)0o  miles  long,  beautifully 
gravelled,  everywhere  smooth  enough  for  a  bicycle,  and  geiierally 
having  a  fine  row  of  trees  on  either  side.  In  the  lower  countries 
these  trees  are  evergreen  oaks  f)r  shiny-lcafeil  fruit-trees,  or  some 
other  of  that  character  ;  up  here  it  is  the  bulbul,  or  gum-arabic  tree, 
with  its  delicate  mimosa  leaf.  We  fretjuently  saw  long  lines  of 
camels  slowly  wending  their  way,  and  large  caravans  of  asses  and 
cows,  showing  that  the  country  ha^;  much  of  the  characteristics  of 
central  Asia. 

i'eshawur  is  a  very  interesting  city,  wholly  central-. \siatic.  A 
very  large  caravan  had  come  in  only  a  daj-  or  two  ago  froui  .\f- 
ghanist.m  and  Turkestan.  In  the  ba/aar  are  bold-looking  .\fghans, 
with  noses  so  .njuiline  that  one  is  read)'  to  belie\'e  them  sprung 
from  the  lost  tribes  of  Israel,  cl.id  in  sheep-skin  coats,  and  fierce 
in  their  demeanor;  Kafirees,  who  looked  at  us  as  if  they  re- 
gretted we  were  not  over  in  the  mountains,  that  the\'  might  cut 
our  throats  and  empty  our  pockets;  Cashmirees,  clean  and  f.iir- 
skiimed,  some  of  them  with  blue  eyes.  In  the  great  yard  we 
walked  among  400  or  500  camels  squatted  around  in  circles,  their 
heads  close  together  antl  eating  from  common  centres.  We  passed 
over  300  of  them  in  a  long  line  wending  their  way  toward  the 
frontier,  loaded  with  bales  of  Mnglish  goods,  great  goods  boxes, 
anil  six-inch  iron  water-pipe  fresh  from  ICngland.  I  wondered  what 
use  the  pipes  were  to  be  put  to  in  central  Asia.  With  this  caravan 
was  a  wild,  hardy  set  of  men,  ami  more  or  less  armed.  In  this 
locality  men  are  permitted  to  bear  arms.  Nowhere  else  in  India 
is  this  allowed — that  is,  to  natives,  but  here  self-protection  makes 
it  necessary.  Indeed,  we  are  no  longer  in  India,  except  in  name. 
We  are  in  central  Asia,  and  only  12  miles  from  the  border  of  the 
land  of  one  of  the  fiercest  people  in  the  world. 

We  had  intended  stopping  at  Amballa  as  we  came  up,  and 
thence  making  a  trip  a  da\-  long  to  Simla,  the  summer  vice-regal 
palace  or  residence.  I  wished  from  that  point  to  look  upon  the 
mighty  peaks  of  the  western  Himalayas.  Years  ago.  Bayard 
Taylor  gave  me  a  glowing  picture  of  them  ;  I  wished  to  look 
upon  them  as  he  did,  and  thus  in  fancy  renew  our  old  associa- 
tions. He  looked  upon  the  eternal  snows  of  Gungootrcc  from  not 
many  miles  away  from  Simla.  I  wished  to  do  the  same,  but  it 
was  pouring  down  rain,  and  we  were  told  it  was  snowing  violently 
at  Simla.  We  therefore  left  it  for  our  return  trip,  if  the  weather 
should  be  more  favorable.     Not  having  any  guide-book  to  tell  us 


'!    ■ 


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./  RACE  WITH  THE  SUX. 


what  \vc  were  to  see  on  the  road  to  Peshawur,  \vc  were  most 
agreeably  surprised  to  find  that  the  mi;;;hty  snow-clad  Himalayas 
of  Cashmir  were  \isiblc  shortly  after  leaving  Lahore,  and  con- 
tinued so  until  night,  and  here  we  have  had  the  opportunity  of 
looking  upon  their  cold  grandeur.  Much  of  the  snow  seen,  how- 
ever, passes  away  in  summer. 

We  have  now  stood  near  the  waters  of  the  Brahmaputra, 
which  rises  in  Thibet,  and,  flowing  easterly,  drains  the  northern 
slope  of  the  Himalayas,  the  mightiest  of  mountains,  then 
bending  around  the  eastern  end.  empties  into  the  eastern  Hay  of 
Bengal.  Between  Lahore  and  I'eshawur  we  crossed  the  Iiulus. 
whicli  rises  close  by  the  fountain  of  the  other  great  river,  and 
running  westward  under  the  northern  slope  of  these  same  moun- 
tains pa'"  es  around  their  western  end.  and  empties  into  the  Sea 
of  Arabia.  Mighty  rivers — of  what  mighty  monardis  do  they 
w.ish  the  feet  ? 

When  we  first  looked  upon  the  loft^'  mountains  of  Cashmir, 
there  was  a  long  line  of  fleecy  clouds  hanging  over  them. 
One  of  us  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  calling  them  "  the 
veil  of  Cashmir."  At  the  crossing  of  the  Jhelum  we  were  close  to 
the  border  of  the  land  of  bright  valleys  and  brilliant  shawls.  W'- 
would  have  been  glad  to  have  visited  it.  but  its  road  v.To  i^arri- 
caded  with  almost  impenetrable  snows.  We  have  a  letter  fron; 
Lord  Dufferin  bespeaking  for  us  the  good  offices  of  all  officials 
throughout  his  empire,  Armetl  with  this,  upon  our  arrival  here, 
we  called  upon  the  deputy-commissioner,  and  a.sked  a  permit  to 
go  into  the  Khybor  Bass,  leading  into  the  land  of  the  Ameer  as 
far  as  possible.  The  result  was  that,  accompanied  b}-  one  of  his 
native  ofticials,  we  drove  l  l  miles  to  the  fort  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountains.  Here  we  found  our  liverymen  liad  sent  a  relay  of 
horses  to  carry  us  part  of  the  way  up  the  pass,  where  wc  expected 
to  find  saddle-horses,  also  sent  from  the  city  earl\-  in  the  morn- 
ing. Accom|)anie(l  by  an  escort  n'  eight  c.ivalr\-men.  splendidly 
mounted,  ;iiul  carrrying  lances,  we  dajihcd  toward  and  into  the 
foothills.  ( )n  every  high  point  for  a  few  miles  a  coupK'of  soldiers 
would  step  from  a  little  stone  luit  and  present  arms  ;is  we  passed 
by  at  full  s])eed.  Sometimes  thc^e  sentries  were  ICXD  or  200  feet 
above  us.  They  made  us  reali/e  that  we  were  in  a  neighborhood 
where  dreatl  war  might  at  any  hour  break  into  wild  whoops,  and 
where  border  robbers  were  more  than  comfortably  plent}'.  But 
our  escort  were  splendid-Kioking  fellows,  and  were  fully  .irmed. 
We  pa.sscd  a  caravan  of  camels,  mules,  and  cows,  all  packed  and 
accompanied  by  wild-looking  armed  men. 

We  had  not  gone  two  miles  upward  into  the  mountain  road 
before  our  carriage-horse-  balked.  Wc  got  out  and  walked.  ;  )ne 
of  the  sokliers  dismounted  and  offered  me  his  liorse,  a  beautiful 
stallion,  full  of  mettle  and  horsi-sense.  I  mountetl  and  rode 
ahead  with  two  soldiers,  the  others  coming  slowly  up  with  the 


I 
I 


:1 

1 


A   hlLJ)  RIDE  INTO  KHYBER  PASS. 


211 


\ 


boys  till  they  should  reach  the  next  relay.  The  pass  is  through 
a  wild,  desolate,  and  mand  gorj^e  :  bold,  rocky,  ami  bleak  moun- 
tains lifting  far  above  the  road,  which  is  a  fine  but  steep  military 
one.  Iviy  two  "  Sikhs  "  were  splendid-looking  fellows.  In  about 
an  hour,  having  crossed  the  summit  of  the  pas. ,  one  of  them  said 
something  to  the  "  sahib  "  (^gentleman),  which  I  understooil  to 
be  that  I  must  ride  slowly.  He  dashed  forward  at  full  speed  (we 
were  now  on  a  down  grade),  leaving  the  other  .soldier  and  nuself 
to  follow  slowly.  \Ve  met  men  in  couples,  armed  and  wild- 
looking.  Wilder-looking  men  and  a  wilder  gorge  tlo  not  often 
exist  anywhere.  Several  rocky  points  had  small  Afghan  'ound- 
liouses,  with  loop-holes  for  muskets  or  rifles.  I  guessed  rightly 
that  my  departing  escort  had  gone  forward  to  see  if  we  would  be 
permitted  to  proceed,  f  r  I  felt  pretty  sure  from  what  the  com- 
missioner had  told  me  th.it  my  permit  only  took  us  to  the  top  of 
the  pass.  The  corporal  knew  this,  but  the  men  with  me  did  not, 
ami  it  was  not  imi)erativel\'  my  dut\  to  tell  them.  I  was  going 
as  far  into  .■\fL;hanistan  as  tliey  woiikl  accompanx'  me,  for  1  knew 
England  was  .it  my  back.  Presently  we  saw  our  advanced  guard 
beckoning  u~.  from  a  far-off  point.  On  we  dashed.  We  reached 
a  little  sto'-.c  hut  against  a  steep  precipice.  My  men  dismounted, 
motioning  me  to  d(j  the  same.  They  brought  out  of  the  hut  a 
chair,  and  planting  it  against  the  cliff  told  me  to  take  a  seat. 
Hardly  had  I  done  so,  when  there  came  down  a  steep  hill  from  a 
sort  of  fortress  high  .diove,  a  fine-looking  fellow,  with  a  dozen 
wild-looking  armed  retainers.  It  wa^  the  chief  of  the  tribe,  the 
heail  of  AH  Musjed.  When  he  approached  I  grasped  the  situa- 
tion. He  was  an  independent  chief,  in  whose  charge  ami  keeping 
was  this  part  of  the  pass.  I  received  him  with  a  digJiity  worthy 
of  the  50,000  democ'ac  voters  of  Chicago,  lie  was  very  polite, 
but  could  not  sjieak  a  word  of  English,  nor  cmdd  any  one  of  them. 
Yet  we  talked.  I  showed  him  Lord  Duffevin's  passport,  and  also 
that  with  Mr.  Baj-ard's  name  attachetl,  with  the  seal  of  my  own 
glorious  land.  He  could  re.id  none  of  them.  I  i)icketl  up  a  large 
lound  stone,  made  .1  mark  upon  it,  and  s.iiil,  "  I'esh.iwur " ; 
another,  and  saiil.  "  Calcutt;  ,"  giving  their  relative  positions. 
He  understood.  1  then  made  another,  and  said,  "England," 
"  London."  This,  too.  he  comprelieiuled.  I  turned  the  st<Mie 
over  ami  drew  a  big  country,  and  said,  '  America."  I  made 
America  too  large,  for  he  looked  at  me  in  a  way  that  plainly  told 
me  he  thought  I  w.is  I>ing.  I  then  ilrew  a  pretty  big  chart,  ami 
nointcd  to  it,  .md  told  him  that  was  Ali  .Musjed,  where  we 
were,  and  that  he  was  rajah  of  it.  He  grinned.  I  turned  the 
ston^  around,  and  with  my  pencil  m.ule  .1  m.irk  the  size  of  a  pea, 
and  told  him  that  was  Chicago,  ,uul  I  wa.-^  its  '■  r.ij.di."  He 
seemed  pleased  that  his  territory  was  bigger  tlian  mine,  and 
motioned  to  me  to  be  seated.  I  wanteil  him  to  sit,  trying  to  ex- 
plain that  ills  rajahship   on  the  stone    was   bigger    than    mine. 


i^     . 


s ' 


M 


\ 


I*  '* 


M 


-  s 


1 


■>il 


V 


I  Iff 


3 


t.     I 


li> 


:,2  A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUX. 

But  he  was  my  host,  and  1  must  have  the  seat.  He  invited  me 
tc  his  stronghold  on  tiie  liill  to  partake  of  food.  I  showed  liim 
.\\y  watcii,  intimating  that  I  was  sorry  not  to  have  the  time,  and 
that  mj  companions  would  be  awaiting  me.  We  shook  hands, 
he  touching  his  heart,  face,  and  forehead.  This  is  the  token  of 
highest  rcsjjcct.  I  suppose  my  escort  had  convinced  him  tliat  I 
A\  IS  a  mighty  man.  Thus  parting  with  the  lord  of  the  territory  of 
Ali  Musjed,  we  rode  forward,  deeper  into  the  great  Khyber  Pass, 
and  well  into  Afghanistan. 

We  reached  All  Musjed.  a  bold-looking  Afghan  fortress,  and 
as  picturesiiue  as  can  be  imagined,  perched  upon  a  lofty,  rocky 
point  overlooking  the  gorge  not  50  feet  wide,  through  wliich  tlie 
road  ran.  It  was  stormed  by  Roberts'  me'i.  and  is  now  dis- 
mantled. By  the  road  under  it  was  a  stone  hut,  large  enough,  I 
thouglit,  for  four  or  five  people.  A  do/en  armed  cut-throat- 
looking  fellows  came  out  of  it.  Tiiey  were  some  of  tiie  chief's 
wild  devils  who  convoy  caravans  through  the  pass.  The  chief  is 
under  the  pay  of  the  giivernment,  aiul  guarantees  safety  to  ail 
peaceful  |)assers  who  have  a  right  to  go  through.  After  a  little 
palaver  with  them,  my  guard  intimated  we  could  go  no  farther. 
But  I  rode  on,  one  of  then\  threw  his  lance  lengthways  across  the 
road  ;ind  followed.  I  saw  then  that  an  armed  I-lnglish  soklier 
could  not  pass  that  line.  1  suppose  it  was  the  end  of  our  last 
chief's  jurisdiction.  But  I  made  signs  I  must  ride  a  little  fartiier 
into  tlu'  narrow  gorge.  He  looked  rather  perplexed,  but  followed 
me.  On  I  galloped  until  the  line  of  Ali  Mu-jed  was  far  behind 
me,  and  I  was  in  a  narrow  defile  as  bold,  wikl.  .uul  rugged  as  a:.y 
Colorado  canyon.  My  escort  was  some  paces  behiml  me,  for  I  '.as 
splendidly  mounted.  He  called  to  me.  I  paused.  He  rode  up 
and  pointed  to  my  holsters  and  his,  saying  something  rather 
apologetic  in  his  own  language.  I  saw  he  meant  we  wore  English 
arms,  even  if  his  lance  were  bihind  ;  but  I  was  going  through  tlua 
defile  a  little  farther  if  possible.  I  dashed  forw.ird.  It  was  a 
beautiful  gallop,  a!mo»t  a  wild  run,  into  as  wild  a  pass  as  the 
wildest  of  lands  could  afTord. 


!  i 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

IMHAS  \  Asr   PASl— A  Gl.OKlor^  MOI'KKN    I  >1;FI  >— DKLI II    AND 

AUKA— EXtjL  isnr,   IIAl.l  S  AMI    ^UMli^— llli;    lAJ  — 

Ri:i-LKCT10NS. 


i't 


DcUii,  India,  February  4,   1888. 

It  is  needless  to  say.  I  ^ot  out  of  Aftjliaiiistaii  with  a  whole 
skin.  I  have,  liowcvcr,  been  informed  that  my  cavahy  c.ipari- 
soned  horse,  witli  tlje  liolsters  at  my  satltlle-bow,  niiy;ht  have  in- 
vited a  warniiijj;  froni  an  Aff^han  <^\\\\.  Hut  as  tlie  chief  of  AH 
Musjcd  (Hd  not  seem  offended,  I  am  fjlad  that  I  made  my  Httlc 
gallop  be}'ond  his  jurisdiction,  or  at  least  beyond  his  safe-conduct. 
I  saitl  in  northern  hulia  tiiere  were  occasional  frosts  from  Uecem- 
ber  to  l*\-bruary,  yet  plants  which  with  us  are  killed  by  the  first 
frosts  are  throuj^hont  the  I'unjab  cj;reen  and  blooming.  Teas 
continue  in  full  blossom,  but  the  pods  do  not  fdl  ilurin;^  the  frost 
jieriods.  Roses  an:  in  full  bloom,  etc.  Wy  the  waj',  frtim  Henares 
for  several  huntlred  miles  north  is  the  land  of  this  queen  of  tlowcrs. 
At  A^ra  I  measure<l  one  resemblini;  a  jaciueminot  in  the  Taj  L;ar- 
den,  seven  inches  in  diameter.  Our  hotel  in  Delhi  had  ujxm  the 
table  seven  (lowers-pots  with  12  to  15  roses  in  each,  with  other 
flowers,  and  ei^dit  small  ones  with  two  or  tiiree  in  each.  These 
were  all  renewed  every  other  day  ;  the  whole  at  a  co.-.t  of  five 
rupees  a  month,  say  §1.75.  The  threat  clumps  of  deep  pur[)lc 
"  beijum  bol.i  "  and  yellow  and  coral  bi^Mionias,  in  masses  10  to 
20  feet  in  diameter  and  lo  feet  hi;4h.  make  the  i)ublic  i^Mrdens  gor- 
geously brilliant.  Outside  of  natural  gardens  the  whole  country 
h.is  a  j)arched  appearance  as  far  as  grass  is  concerned.  I'ields  of 
growing  crops  are  green,  and  nearly  all  trees,  though  deciduous, 
arc  ever  green,  but  at  this  season  not  brightly  so. 

Our  ride  of  600  miles  from  I'eshawur  back  here  was  even  more 
enjoyable  than  the  one  going  up.  We  saw  by  day  what  we 
passed  going  liy  night.  It  took  43  hours,  with  abimdant  time  for 
good  meals.  The  mountains  of  Cashmir  covered  with  snow,  some 
of  them  17,000  feet  high,  were  in  view  for  hours.  We  crossed  on 
magnificent  briilges  the  ^\\v  great  branches  of  the  Indus,  now 
comparative!)-  sm.dl  streams.  Hut  the  great  river-beds,  a  mile  or 
so  wide,  deep  sunken  with  their  bars  of  rounded  pebbles,  showetl 
what  mighty  torrents  they  become  uhen  the  snows  of  the  llim.i- 
layas  .melt. 


I 


\\\ 


V"'.lil, 


h\  .1 


\s\ 


m 


UN 


214 


A  J? ACE  IVITff  THE  SUiY. 


After  leaving  Umbala  the  lofty  Iieights  of  the  main  Himalayas 
and  the  immcdi.itc  foothills  were  in  view  for  several  hours.  Their 
lofty,  rugged  peaks  far  over  the  foothills,  from  20,000  to  25,000 
feet  high,  with  their  eternal  snows  outlined  upon  the  blue  sk)-, 
presented  a  magmficent  spectacle  not  far  inferior  to  that  of 
Kunchinjinga  from  D.irjeeling.  Wo  had  from  the  car  windows 
what  I  so  much  desired,  a  splendid  prospect  of  those  grand 
heights,  which  my  olu  friend  Bayard  Taylor  travelled  so  far  and 
under  sucli  difficulties  to  see  from  Landowr,  onlj-  a  few  miles 
from  the  line  we  were  :;o  comfortably  moving  along.  There  were 
no  railroads  here  34  years  ago.  He  travelled  night  and  day  in  an 
open  cart,  and  caught  only  a  passing  glance,  between  clouds,  of 
these  stupendous  heights.  We  had  together,  a  year  or  two 
before,  looked  upon  and  p.issed  over  Hermon  and  I  ^oanon. 
had  encamped  in  a  wild  gorge  oT  the  Taurus,  and  had  slowlj- 
climbed  the  green  slopes  of  frownir.g  (^lyiupus  after  a  long 
journey  across  Asia  Minor.  He  knew  he  had  my  hearty  sympa- 
thy. When  speaking  of  this,  his  onlj-  vision  of  the  Himalayan 
monarch,  he  said  :  "  It  was  only  for  .t  little  while,  but  oh,  Har- 
rison, it  was  worth  a  lifetime  of  toil  I  "  How  his  brown  eyes 
glowed  I  He  enjoyed  nature  as  only  one  can  who  has  a  heart  full 
of  s\-mpathy.  I  watchcil  for  hours  those  far-off  frozen  monsters 
of  silver,  enamelled  upon  the  azure  sky.  and  they  were  all  the 
more  beautiful  because  my  dead  friend  had  so  enjoyed  them.  At 
least  I  thought,  when  looking  u;)on  the  might)'  snows  in  the  dis- 
tance, that  they  were  the  same  he  had  seen,  and  enjo\-ed  them 
accordingly.  I  now  have  iloubts  if  either  of  the  two  monarchs  of 
the  western  1  linial.i)as  are  visible  from  the  line  of  railroad.  For 
the  time  being,  however,  our  sensations  were  as  complete  as  if  we 
were  looking  ujion  the  rivals  of  Everest  and  Kunchinjinga. 

i\mericans  visit  countries,  cities,  and  battle-fields  in  Kurope 
.sacred  to  them  because  their  forefathers  lived  and  died  there,  or 
because  they  were  the  cradles  of  their  le.uiiing.  There  the  soil  is 
d\'ed  in  blood  in  the  nam.  of  freedom  or  for  n-ligion's  cause.  In 
Rome  they  live  o\er  a  world  of  history,  and  sec  legions  of  long 
dead  heroes  marching  before  them.  In  (irecce  they  watch  genius 
chiselling  brealhing  forms  from  cold  marble,  ami  listen  to  unilying 
song  (lowing  from  the  lips  of  the  muses.  If  India  had  a  written 
history  as  hiVc  Rome  and  (ireece,  ami  hail  as  grateful  posterity  as 
they  have,  then  would  millions  visit  the  20-mile-s(]uare  in  whose 
centre  I  now  sit  in  Delhi,  and  would  revel  in  a  mighty  past,  com- 
pared to  which  th'-  past  of  Rome  and  Athens  is  as  a  decade  to  a 
century.  Here  for  thousands  of  years  histor\-  has  been  acted,  but 
never  written.  Acteil  not  centuries  ago,  with  a  vast  vacu.ity  to 
toUow,  but  acted  continuously  as  the  ages  have  marched  slowh' 
along.  Not  200  )-artls  from  where  I  am  writing,  30  years  ago  a 
deed  was  done  more  heroic'  than  was  the  stand  of  Lconidas  at 
Thermop)he.     The    murderous   mutineer;,    seemed    safe    behind 


71 


UNIQUE  MONUMENTS.     OLD  RUINS. 


215 


Delhi's  impregnable  wall.  A  breach  must  be  made,  but  how,  and 
by  whom  ?  Two  brave  soldiers,  with  nine  followers,  offered  to 
blow  up  a  massive  gate.  With  bags  of  powder  they  ran  to  it  un- 
der a  galling  fire,  knowing  well  that  if  they  escaped  the  bullets 
the}'  must  be  buried  under  the  ruins  they  hoped  to  make.  One 
by  one  they  fell.  A  single  man  reached  the  arch,  applied  the 
torch,  the  oreach  was  madi',  Delhi  was  won,  and  the  mutin_\-, 
which  was  one  of  the  most  cruel  recorded  in  the  annals  of  war, 
was  virtually  ended.  A  plain  slab  leaning  against  the  gate  gives 
the  names  of  those  heroes.  A  national  anthem  should  carry  their 
fame  down  through  undj-ing  time. 

Here  within  a  small  circuit  the  mighty  moguls  ruled  200  years 
ago,  and  during  several  centuries  made  this  their  capital  of  a 
mighty  empire,  the  centre  of  an  art  all  their  own,— an  art  so  full 
of  fancy  and  dreamy  splendor  that  even  Aladdin's  lamp  could 
find  nothing  to  surpass  its  creations.  Under  the  ruins  of  the 
palaces,  mosciues,  tombs,  and  forts  of  the  moguls  lay  the  ruins 
of  the  cities  destroyed  by  them,  and  out  of  whose  sculptured 
walls  and  temples  they  found  materials  for  their  own  superb 
edifices.  Still  lower  down  were  tlie  relics  of  )-ct  older  cities, 
layer  upon  la\'er  in  stratified  debris,  is  the  work  of  the  enslaved 
millions,  who  have  lived,  toiled  in  misery  for  thousands  of 
years,  and  died,  only  to  make  room  for  other  slaves  yet  to 
follow. 

Mere  one  sees  a  red-coated  English  soldier  cjuartcreil  in  the 
colonnaded  cloister  of  an  old  mosque  erected  two  or  three 
centuries  ago.  Sculptured  stones  cut  by  liands  of  Hindoo 
worsliii^pcrs  over  2,000  years  ago  are  built  into  the  walls  of 
the  Moliamniedan  temple.  The  Hrahmin  temple,  a  part  of 
whose  cloisters  became  the  corridors  of  the  conquering  Moham- 
metlan,  had  for  its  foumlations  some  structures  yet  far  older  : 
at  one  of  these  places,  piercing  through  all,  stands  tl^e  most 
uni<|ue  monument  in  the  world — a  wrought-iron  pillar  nearly  a 
fool  and  a  half  in  diameter,  and  over  40  feet  high — liow  much 
higher,  or  rather  longer,  no  one  knows,  for  an  excavation  nearly 
30  feet  deep  failci!  to  reach  its  foundation,  and  at  tiiis  deptli 
of  excavation  it  was  yet  st)  firm  below  that  it  could  not  be 
shaken.  This  strange  pillar  is  not  hollow,  but  it  is  a  solid  shaft 
of  malleable  iron,  and  is  claimeil  b\-  the  natives  to  have  its 
foundation  on  the  centre  of  the  world. 

Cities  lie  here  in  strata,  as  the  ribs  of  the  earth  do  in  its 
nn'ghty  rocks — sandstone,  shale,  limestone,  and  marble.  Can 
we  hope  that  under  Hriti^.h  rule  will  overlie  all  a  stratum  of  rich 
loam,  to  be  yet  watered  by  the  sweat  of  a  happy  and  prosperous 
people,  till  it  waves  as  a  field  of  grain  and  blo.ssoms  as  the  rose  ? 
Close  to  the  iron  pillar  stands  one  of  the  most  interesting  and 
beautiful  monuments  ever  seeii,  the  Kutab  Miliar.  This  is  a 
species  of  column  with  a  diameter  at  its  base  of  nearly  50  feet, 


r^'"3 


i'.. 


2t6 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


9- 


li  I 


i  ' 


and  risingj  to  a  height  of  240  odd  foct,  with  a  diameter  at  its 
apex  of  nine.  At  one  time  it  continued  to  a  still  greater  height 
of  20  feet  ;  the  up;^or  part  was  thrown  off  by  an  earthquai<e 
within  the  present  century.  It  is  divided  into  five  stories,  gradu- 
ated in  perfect  symmetry.  Each  story  is  surmounted  by  a  bal- 
cony supported  by  an  exquisite  brackxted  cornice.  But,  as  a 
still' further  relief,  each  is  divided  into  what  appear  to  be  other 
stories,  by  broad  bands  inlaid  in  white  of  Arabic  extracts  from  the 
Koran.  The  column  is  fluted  for  most  of  its  height,  and  built 
of  red.  buff,  and  pink  sandstone  and  white  marble.  l*"or  what 
purpose  it  was  built  no  one  knows.  It  is  as  beautiful  in  its  form 
and  construction  as  it  is  unicjue  in  its  conception.  The  Kutab 
Miliar  is  1 1  miles  from  the  present  city, — the  space  between 
being  a  mass  of  ruins  of  okler  cities. 

W'j  counted  fmni  the  top  of  the  Kutab  Minar  over  100  tombs, 
some  in  ruins,  others  more  or  less  preserved.  One  of  these  is 
that  of  Humayun.  the  second  of  the  mogul  rulers;  the  first, 
Baber.  was  buried  where  he  lived,  somewhere  in  central  Asia. 
This,  though  not  near  so  ornate  as  those  of  several  of  his  suc- 
cessors, is  to  me  the  most  ajjpropriate  of  all  mausoleums.  First 
there  is  a  structure  of  red  sandstone  considerablx'  over  300  feet 
square  and  about  30  feet  high:  on  each  side  are  iS  saracenic- 
archcd  doorways,  divided  b\'  massive  square  iiiliars.  The  sand- 
stone is  relieved  by  inlaid  white  marble.  Within  each  of  these 
doorways  are  vaulted  chambers  containin:;;  tombs.  This  structure  is 
really  the  i)la:form  for  the  true  mausoleum  or  main  tomb,  wliich 
is  about  i;o  feet  square,  with  cut-off  corners,  and  probably 
70  feet  high.  On  the  four  sides  are  lofty  arched  doorwa\'s  60 
feet  ',n  height,  inclosing  the  segments  of  rounded  vaults.  On 
either  side  of  tliese  doorways  are  archeil  windows.  Ail  the 
arrlies  are  pointed  Oriental.  The  w  hole  of  the  main  body  is  of 
red  .sandstone,  picked  in  and  relieved  b\-  beautiful  white  marble 
inlaid  work.  .Surmounting  it  is  a  majestic  dome  of  white  marble 
probabK"  60  feet  in  diameter.  Around  this,  along  the  outer 
walls,  arc  small  white  marble  minarets,  and  at  each  corner  a 
small  dome.  Under  the  main  dome  is  a  vaulted  chamber  aiiout 
50  feet  across.  In  this  is  the  cenotaph  of  the  monarch.  Under 
each  of  the  smaller  domes  are  vaulteil  chambers  containing  tombs 
of  his  immediate  family.  The  whole  stands  in  a  walled  inclosure 
of  many  acres,  with  noble  gateways  on  three  sides.  A  remarka- 
ble feature  of  this  structure  is  that  there  are  man)-  masonic  em- 
blems inlaid  into  the  walls  in  black  marble.  The  surroundings 
of  the  tomb  are  very  desolate,  and,  as  we  fountl,  haunted  by 
jackals;  fit  resting  place  for  one  so  unfortunate  as  was  this 
monarch  in  his  short  reign. 

Near  this  is  a  group  of  remarkable  tombs  of  a  different  charac- 
ter, being  simply  spaces  inclosed  by  .screens  of  marble  cut  into 
open  network  pattern,  of  a  finish  as  delicate  and   beautiful  as 


PURE  J  AH  AN AR  A. 


217 


if  cut  from  ivory.  One  of  these  is  the  burial-place  of  a  Moham- 
medan saint ;  adjoining  it  is  the  mosque  in  which  he  oflficiated 
several  hundred  years  ago.  A  few  poor  monks  still  have  charge 
of  it  and  protect  the  tombs  surrounding  it.  One  of  these  is 
that  of  Jahanara,  who  shared  the  seven  years'  captivity  of  her 
father,  Shah  Jahan.  We  saw  it  when  here  before  going  to 
I'eshawur,  but  were  so  much  touched  with  Jahanara's  pure  devo- 
tion and  sublime  faith  that  we  visited  it  again.  The  light  net- 
work screen  of  snow-white  marble  in  beautiful  pattern  surround- 
ing her  tomb,  seemed  a  fitting  inclosure  for  one  whose  spirit  was 
so  pure  and  whose  filial  devotion  was  so  true.  She  is  covered 
by  a  plain  block  of  white  alabaster,  simple  as  was  her  nature.  She 
asked  that  no  inscription  be  upon  her  tomb. 

"  riaic  iiaii^lil  save-  iinc  t;ici-n  licrli  alxive  my  ht.id, 
This  alonu  liulil-.  llii-  pdur  and  Iniiely  ik-ail.  " 

To  carry  out  her  dying  wish  the  alabaster  block  is  hollowed  out 
on  ti>p  .uul  kept  by  pious  monks  always  filled  with  green  grass. 
A  slab  stands  near  the  head  of  her  tomi),  inscribeil  in  Arabic  : 
"God  is  the  life  and  the  resu-'rection."  The  "  Taj  "  made  me 
bow  at  the  tomb  of  Monta/,  whose  name  its  wondrous  beauty 
for  a  mtunent  almost  sanctified.  lUit  J.dianara's  loving,  gentle 
spirit  beautifies  the  simple  stone  which  covers  her  dust.  ^Iontaz 
was  a  beautiful,  i)roiul  woman,  whose  every  caprice  was  a  law 
tt)  her  doting  husband.  Her  life  was  said  to  have  been  one  of 
cruelt)-,  perhaps  not  untinged  by  crime.  Her  mausoleum  is  the 
jiL'rfection  of  architi'Ctuial  i^ciuty.  l\)ets  look  at  it  and,  forget- 
ting the  woman's  frailties,  sing  of  her  as  if  she  were  fitted  by 
her  nature  for  the  tonib  in  which  her  ashes  rest.  She  loved  and 
brightened  tiie  pleasures  of  her  prospero.s  king.  But  when  tliat 
same  king  for  long  years  pined  in  captivity,  poor  J.dianara 
shared  it  with  him,  and  b\'  the  sunshine  of  a  daughter's  love 
lightened  up  his  hours  of  gloom.  I  felt  one  should  tread  lightly 
and  s|)eak  in  low  anil  gentle  tones  when  near  her  resting-place. 

Delhi,  like  Agra,  has  a  magnificent  fort,  covering  nearly  a  mile 
square,  built  of  red  sandstone,  with  majestic  gateways,  and  loft\- 
crenulated  w.ills.  In  both  cities  the  fv)rts  ;irc  on  the  river  bank 
and  are  grand.I)-  imposing  in  appearance.  Within  e.ich  is  a  mar- 
vellously beautiful  temple,  each  called  the  Pearl  moseiue.  Both 
have  exquisite  palaces  aiul  auilience-halls.  The  Diwan-i-Am, 
or  "  public  audience-hall,"  in  Delhi  is  iSo  feet  long,  60  feet  deep, 
and  25  feet  high,  supported  b\-  three  rows  each  of  16  columns,  and 
one  row  of  pilasters  upon  the  rear  wall.  I'rom  the  outer  columns 
spring  Saracenic  engrailed  arches.  The  whole  makes  rather  a 
portico  than  a  hall,  in  western  acceptation  of  the  term.  The 
structure — roof,  ceiling,  antl  all — is  massive  and  dignified,  and  of 
red  .sandstone,  a  fitting  place  for  a  mighty  monarch  to  give 
audience  to  his  subjects.   In  the  centre,  back  against  the  rear  wall, 


\V 


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'I   ! 


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«.  V 


■\    ^i 


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9S8 


A  RACE  WITJi  THE  SUN. 


M  ' 


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is  a  white  marble  throne,  about  12  feet  square  and  10  feet  high, 
surmounted  by  a  canopy  supported  by  four  corner  pillars.  The 
throne,  canopy,  and  wall  behind  arc  richl)'  carved  and  covered 
with  inlaid  ornamentation — flowers,  vines,  and  buds, — all  of 
precious  marbles,  and  finely  wrout^ht. 

Not  far  from  this  is  the  Diwan-i-Khas,  or  private  audience 
hall,  the  bath,  the  pearl  mosque,  and  the  zenana  or  queen's 
apartments.  The  mosque  is  a  t^em  of  clouded  white  marble,  with 
three  beautiful  domes  and  exquisite  marble  arches,  supporting 
marble,  vaulted,  engrailed  ceilings.  It  was  for  the  suitan  and  his 
innnediate  court  alone,  and  coukl  not  accommodate  over  100 
persons.  In  fact  there  were  not  praj-er  slabs  for  that  number.  It 
will  be  well  hereto  explain  that  mosques  are  never  provided  with 
or  intended  to  have  seats.  In  fine  ones  the  floors  are  composed 
of  slabs  of  marble  often  of  different  colors,  about  five  feet  long  by 
about  two  and  a  half.  On  one  of  these  the  worshipper  kneels 
when  praying,  anil  during  any  services  upon  these,  sometimes 
])ra>er-rugs  are  spread  for  the  rich.  The  small  Turkish  and 
I'ersian  rugs,  seen  in  the  houses  of  our  rich  people,  were  woven 
and  many  of  them  possibly  once  used  for  this  purpose.  The 
number  t)f  slabs  indicate  the  number  of  worshippers  a  mostjue  will 
accommotlate. 

The  Diwan-i-Khas  is  also  a  portico,  70  feet  long,  60  fixt  wide, 
and  20  high,  with  36  massive  scjuare  white  pillars,  supporting  a 
roof  of  closely  fitted  slabs  of  marble,  decorated  in  gold  and  colors. 
The  lower  parts  of  the  pillars  and  outer  walls  are  richly  carved 
and  elaborately  inlaid.  The  material  used  for  inlaying  all  the 
interior  of  these  buildings  are  blood-stone,  lapis  lazuli,  cornelian, 
jasi)cr,  agate,  goldstone,  and  other  precious  marbles.  In  the  rear 
of  the  audience-hall  is  a  large  alabaster  table.  On  this  stood  the 
f.imous  peacock  throne,  the  most  daz/.ling  and  costly  thing  of  the 
kintl  ever  fabricateil  :  a  gorgeous  work  in  gold  and  rarest  gems, 
said  to  have  cost  somewhere  from  §20,000,000  to  $50,ooo,ixxD.  All 
interior  inlaid  work,  both  in  this  and  other  buildings,  I  sh.dl  name, 
is  in  vines  and  flowers,  of  a  perfection  of  tlesign  and  finish  eipial 
to  the  tables  manufactured  in  Italy,  ami  owned  only  by  a  few 
very  rich  people.  The  floors  are  generally  of  Florentine  mosaic  ; 
sometimes,  however,  they  too,  are  in  flowers  and  vines.  Separated 
from  this  audience  hall  by  a  court,  is  the  zenana.  This  I  shall 
not  attempt  to  describe  in  detail.  It  is  about  two  thirds  as  long 
as  the  audience-hall  and  is  a  gem  of  alabaster,  inlaid  work  and 
frescoing  upon  white  marble.  Across  its  centre  runs  a  screen 
partition  i)f  panels  of  open  lattige-work  in  marble  slabs,  say  3x5 
feet  and  4x5,  cut  into  open  works  of  flowers  and  vines.  Some 
of  the  marble  is  cut  so  finely  and  delicatelj-as  to  be  nearly  as  thin 
as  knife-blades.  One  can  hardly  believe  that  stone  could  be  cut 
and  stand  when  so  delicate.  At  a  little  distance  it  appears  to  be 
of  slabs  of  ivory.     A  balcony  from  this  zenana,  overlooking  the 


I    V' 


MOSQUES  AND  TOMBS. 


ai9 


plain  running  down  to  the  river,  is  entirely  of  this  fine  work.  A 
charming  place  for  a  petted  queen  to  sit  and  look  out  without 
herself  being  seen. 

At  the  otlier  end  of  the  audience  hall,  and  also  separated  from 
it  by  a  court,  is  the  bath.  1 1  ere  one  gets  a  true  idea  of  the  luxury 
indulged  in  by  these  masters  of  men.  There  are  three  vaulted  and 
domed  apartments  about  30  feet  square,  with  corridors  between 
and  anterooms  at  the  side,  with  baths  for  hot  and  cold  and 
fountains  for  perfumed  water.  Tiiese  walls  are  ail  inlaid  and  the 
ceilings  frescoed.  A  long  marble  rivulet  runs  from  the  bath  across 
the  court,  then  througii  a  channel  umler  the  audience-hall,  and  on 
to  the  zenana.  The  lloors  of  these  tlii'ce  structures  are  inlaid  in 
vines,  flowers,  etc.,  anil  of  costly,  precious  marbles. 

The  government  here,  as  in  other  cities,  is  repairing  the  finest 
buildings,  therebj-  g.iining  somewhat  the  good-w  ill  of  its  native 
sul)jects.  In  manj-  buildings  the  most  valuable  precious  stones 
were  picked  out  by  the  soldiers  years  ago.  Tiie  reparations,  as 
near  as  possible,  give  the  ai)pearance  of  the  original  without  the 
cost,  the  precious  marbles  and  gems  being  supplied  by  imitations 
in  fine  cement. 

There  are  many  other  buildings,  moscjues  and  tombs  about 
Delhi  which  I  have  not  time  to  name.  Only  will  I  add  that  the 
Janini  mosque  is  a  noble  structure — perhaps  one  of  the  largest 
and  most  imposing  of  its  kind  in  existence.  It  can  accommodate 
2,oai  peo])K',  uiuler  the  roof,  and  40,000  in  the  court.  In  the 
courts  are  the  poorest  worshippers  antl  more  closely  |)acked  than 
in  the  mosijue  proper.  The  front  of  all  are  ojjcn  so  that  those  in 
the  courts  have  the  full  benefit  of  .ill  ceremonies.  The  mosque  is 
of  reil  sandstone,  with  zigzag  inlaid  white  marble,  giving  it  a  very 
airy  appeanuice.  It  must  deeply  affect  the  imagination  of  the 
followers  of  the  pnii^het.  IMosques  throughout  the  workl  are  of 
one  gciier.il  pattern.  The  dome  and  minaret  constitute  the 
imposing  features.  To  m\'  e)-e  it  is  the  fittest  design  known  for 
an  edifice  in  which  to  worship  the  one  God.  If  Mohammed  had 
only  left  out  the  sensuous  characteristics  of  his  religion,  and  in  its 
pi. ice  had  inculcated  the  purity  taught  by  Jesus,  what  .1  blessing 
he  would  h.ive  Ijeen  to  the  Mast  I 

Humayun  ditl  not  reside  in  the  present  Delhi,  but  in  a  city  two 
miles  off — all  now  melted  away  except  the  great  fort  ...d  the 
tombs  of  a  few  of  the  great  ones.  Not  only  are  the  new  structures 
here  built  of  the  material  of  t>Uler  ones,  but  the  very  roads  are 
m.icad.imized  with  their  debris.  The  bulk  of  the  inner  material  of 
all  having  been  brick,  causes  the  roads  built  from  them  to  have 
fretpiently  a  terra-cotta  color.  Hy  the  waj-,  pulverized  brick  is 
mixed  with  lime  for  making  mortar.  They  say  it  is  better  than 
.sand. 

I  lumayun's  son,  the  great  Akbar,  lived  at  Agra  and  Futtehpoor- 
Sikri,  a  city  of  his  own  building  near-by.   There  he  erected  gorgeous 


m 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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'll.'l 


palaces  at  vast  expense.  Hut  the  monarch  who  bent  India  beneath 
his  rod,  and  whose  simple  order  was  an  inexorable  law,  could  not 
dispel  malarial  fo^s  from  his  pet  city.  Its  marble  halls  were  soon 
deserted,  its  alabaster  baths  ceased  to  be  cooled  by  pellucid 
streams.  Its  palaces  and  stables  remain  almost  as  they  were 
erected.  For  they  are  too  much  rcmoveil  from  any  hi<;hway  or 
new  town  to  be  quarried  into  for  construction  material.  Akbar 
was  forced  to  abandon  his  new-built  city,  and  returned  to  j^ive 
audience  in  the  I)iwan-i-Am,  overlooking^  the  broad  Jumna  in 
Agra's  fort.  Here,  upon  a  huge  slab  of  bl.ick  marble,  the  mifjluy 
warrior  administered  justice  to  crin<^inj^  slaves  crowdin<^  the  hall 
below.  lie  was  a  harsh  "nd  unbending  tyrant,  but  practised  a 
rude  justice, — often  cruel,  never  kindly,  yet  never  having  the 
tiger-like  ferocity  of  the  hot  Indian  jungle,  but  rather  partaking 
of  the  character  of  the  wild  winds  which  swept  over  the  steppes 
of  his  Tartar  forefathers.  He  looked  over  the  broad  plain  waving 
in  fields  of  green  along  the  river;  he  looked  over  the  interior  nf 
the  fort,  and  there,  crowding  each  other  like  tents  in  the  mogul 
camp,  were  domes  and  minarets,  palaces  and  kiosks,  zenanas  and 
pavilions  of  ojkmi  network  marble,  light  and  airy  as  bird-cages,  in 
which  the  dark-ejxnl  beauties  of  the  harem  sat  and  sang  and  gos- 
siped and  chiri)ed  the  livelong  d.i\-,  like  prison  birds  of  gorgeous 
plum.ige,  and  like  them,  too,  with  throats  attuneil  to  no  songs  of 
real  ji'V.  The  parrot,  in  golden  feathers,  croaks  its  coarse,  discord- 
ant jargon  amid  crimson  flowers  and  loftj- bowers,  while  all  around 
is  a  torritl  prison-house  of  malarial  damps.  Hut  the  lark  pours 
out  his  soul  in  delirious  joy,  while  with  fluttering  wing  it  beats  the 
free,  bracing  air  of  a  frosted  zone.  The  linnet  carols  its  song  of 
love,  when  hidcien  among  new-born  buds,  on  a  bough  latel\- bared 
by  wintry  blasts.  O  freedom  !  wilt  thou  ever  make  thy  home 
where  fmsts  never  blast? 

Akbar  conquered  India,  and  was  hurietl  at  Secundra,  two  miles 
from  Agra.  His  tomb  has  nothing  about  it  to  remind  one  that 
its  tenant  is  dead.  It  is  rather  a  mosque-like  palace  of  the  living. 
His  fame  will  live  for  ages.  Did  the  genius  of  exuberant  mogul 
art  think  of  this  when  it  conceived  this  last  home  for  one  of  the 
immortals?  It  is  the  only  one  of  its  kind,  and  was  perhaps,  after 
all.  a  stroke  of  highest  art.  t  )ne  enters  a  vast  garden  through  a 
noble  gate  of  red  sandstone,  beautifully  inlaid  with  white  marble, 
in  scrolls  of  huge  Arabic  texts  from  the  Koran  and  finely  propor- 
tioned panels.  The  gateway  building  leading  to  the  garden  con- 
taining the  tomb  is  loo  and  odd  feet  long  by  nearly  the  same 
in  height.  It  is  nearly  square,  and  surmounted  by  four  lofty 
minarets  in  white.  Of  itself  it  would  be  a  noble  tomb.  The  great 
arched  gate  and  two  recessed  windows  fill  the  front  facade.  The 
mausoleum  consists  of  five  platforms,  the  first  20  feet  high  and 
500  feet  square.  In  the  centre  of  each  side  is  a  lofty  gate  through 
which  steps  mount.      On  this  rises  the  second  platform,  350  feet 


€  I 


/■VA'TS  .LYP  r.U.ACES. 


aat 


square.  The  four  sides  arc  supported  b\-  -^nine  30  columns.  At 
cither  end  of  tliis  rise  a  li.df-ilozcn  domed  wliite  pavilions.  Tlie 
third  and  fourth  plalf< mis  .ire  over  2(X)  feet  sipiare,  eacli  sup- 
ported by  piUars.  Then  on  top  of  these  is  tli'  fifth,  wiiich  is  of 
wliite  marble  with  domed  pavilion  at  each  corner.  The  upper 
platform  or  roof  is  su|)p(irted  b)-  beaiitif\illy  carveil  white  macl)le 
pillars,  making'  a  rich  corridcr,  within  which,  enclosed  by  lul- 
patterncd  marble  l.ittice-w  ork,  is  a  room  about  70  feet  stpiare. 
This  is  airy,  li{?ht,  and  beautiful.  In  its  centre  is  the  cenot.iph  of 
the  ^reat  ruler,  inscribed  in  Arabic  (piot.itions  from  the  Konm. 
His  ashes  lie  dinclly  uiulcr  thi-,,  hut  in  a  d.irk  v.iull  in  the  h.i.sc- 
mctit  of  the  structure,  with  no  marble  immediately  covering  them. 
Just  at  the  head  of  the  cenotaph  above  is  a  short  marble  pillar, 
with  .1  sort  of  cup  on  its  top.  In  this  was  kept  the  "kur-i-nur"— 
the  li;j;lit  of  liie  world — the  i,'re.it  diaiiioml.  now  the  brii,ditest 
jewel  beloii^injj  to  the  crown  "f  l'Jii;land.  The  entire  mausoleum, 
except  the  top  pkitform,  is  of  reil  sandstone,  lii^'hted  u|)  by  white 
marble  inlaid  in  ^^raceful  forms.  The  ^rand  arch  "f  the  main  en- 
tr.uice  is  illumined  b\'  arabescpies  and  llowers  in  j  .cious  marbles, 
as  arc  also  the  floors  and  lower  panels  of  the  inclosurc  .ibovc  con- 
taining the  cenotaph.  The  several  stories  or  platforms  sit  back 
upon  the  one  below,  so  th.it  the  entire  structure  artistically 'i- 
minishes  as  it  rises.  The  entire  structure  is  from  130  to  160  feet 
hiL;li,  and  is  by  some  tliout,'lit  the  [grandest  of  all  the  niot;ul 
structures.  It  is  the  most  (.liquified,  and  fittingly  enshrines  the 
greatest  of  the  line. 

The  Agra  fort  is  a  noble  citadel  nearly  a  mile  squ.ue.  It 
contains  many  beautiful  buildings.  One  of  them,  the  Pearl 
mosipie,  is  a  perfect  thing  in  pure  marble,  as  fresh  and  clean  to- 
ilay  as  when  erected.  It  is  \ciy  beautiful,  but  to  me  is  too  cold, 
lacking  too  entirely  color  and  tone.  I'robably  in  a  hotter  season 
this  would  not  seem  the  case.  Akbar's  son,  Jahangir,  built  hi> 
palace  in  tlie  fort.  I.acli  emperor  seemed  to  consider  it  a  duty  to 
create  a  new  city  or  to  erect  new  palaces.  None  of  them  resided 
in  the  lu)use  of  his  predecessor.  It  must  be  untlerstood.  however, 
that  these  palaces  in  no  way  correspond  with  the  vast  eilificesnow 
used  for  such  purposes,  with  great  state  halls,  numerous  private 
saloons,  and  innumerable  sleeping  chambers.  A  mogul's  palace 
for  himself  and  main  cpieen,  with  audience-hall  and  baths,  would 
not  cover  200  feet  square.  They  were  all  rather  open, — pillared 
and  arched  porticos  than  houses.  A  simple  screen  and  the  king's 
command  made  privacy  complete.  A  guard  of  soldiers  made  im- 
mediate outer  walls  useless.  The  great  wall  of  the  fort,  guarded  by 
an  innumerable  army,  kept  the  open  enemy  at  a  distance.  A  body- 
guard kept  off  all  idle  or  dangerous  intruders.  The  king's  palace 
was  like  his  tent,  except  that  marble  and  alabaster  screens  took 
the  place  of  canvas  and  silk  cloth.  Curtains  of  woven  gold  and 
silk   divided  off  rooms,  and  no  man  except  the  monarch  ever 


1  I 


\  ^ 


■'I 


!  :\A 


1    ll  1  . 

\  * . 

H 


322 


^  RACE  WITJI  TIIF.  SUX. 


■If- 


invaded  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  zenana  or  harem.  In  this 
lived  the  queen  or  (lueeiis,  with  their  handmaids  and  servants,  all 
female.  They  ate,  prayetl.  lau^died.  and  sanp,  and  were  hapj)/ 
when  their  lord  dei^Mied  to  smile  upon  them.  They  were  ^^enerally 
simply  toys  for  his  amusement.  Now  and  then  a  favored  one  won 
his  heart,  and  became  his  idol.  On  sucli  he  lavished  untold 
wealth.     Was  she  happy  ? 

The  Jasmine  Pavilion  is  an  exquisite  vaulted  little  kio;«k, 
composed  entirely  of  jewelled,  enamelled,  and  lacework  marble 
screens.  This  overlooks  the  outside  of  the  fort.  Close  by  it  sat, 
for  seven  years.  Shah  J.dian,  when  kept  a  prisoner  by  his  son 
Arun;,'zeb.  It  was  lhereth.it  the  ill-fated  monarch  had  leisure  to 
repent  his  own  faithlessness  to  his  father  Jahan^'ir.  Jahangir's 
tomb  is  at  Lahore.  It  is  a  noble  structure,  and  is  now  being 
repaired  and  restored  by  the  government.  Jahan's  years  of  captiv- 
ity had  one  consolation,  the  devotion  of  his  daughter  (heretofore 
named)  Jahanar.i,  a  Moh.uumedan  girl,  whose  beautiful  faith  in 
the  one  true  God  was  as  sublime  as  that  of  any  Christian  woman 
around  whose  brow  shines  the  halo  of  a  saint. 

Shah  Jahan  was  the  founder  of  the  present  Delhi.  He  built  the 
palaces,  baths,  and  audience-halls  which  are  its  beautiful  monu- 
ments. His  ashes  lie  h\'  the  siile  of  those  of  his  queen.  Mont.iz, 
in  the  Taj.  Aurungzeb's  reign  was  a  long  one— nearly  50  years  : 
but  it  may  be  called  a  half  century  of  intrigues,  murders,  poison- 
ings, and  imperial  disasters,  woven  in  with  a  lavish  si)lcndor  un- 
known in  an\'  other  age  and  impossible  out  of  India.  Merc  every 
little  principality  had  its  own  language  and  its  own  people.  Cohe- 
sion was  an  impossibility,  except  the  cohesion  of  slavery  and  des- 
potism. There  were  millions  who  could  at  any  moment  have 
broken  the  cobweb  rope  which  fettered  them.  The  rope  cut 
into  their  quivering  flesh.  They  themselves  held  their  limbs 
together  while  their  wounds  festered  ;  they  had  not  will  enough 
to  swell  the  muscles  which  with  their  own  simple  expansion  could 
have  sundered  the  fragile  cord  that  bound  them.  Aurungzeb's 
fears  and  luxury  awakened  his  Nemesis.  The  cobwet  net.  which 
for  centuries  had  lain  over  India,  dropped  into  pieces.  His  reign 
was  so  luxurious  that  Moore's  dream  of  '•  Lalla  Rof>kh  "  was  not 
an  unreal  picture  of  the  reality — a  reality  of  which  the  Irish  bard 
was  wholly  ignorant.  Drawing  colors  from  his  own  fervid  fancy 
he  painted  a  picture  he  supposed  all  unreal,  but  wh<ch  in  fact  was 
true  to  nature.  I  know  not  where  Aurungzeb  v.as  buried.  A 
guide  at  Lahore  said  the  tomb  was  12  miles  from  that  city. 
It  may  be  so.  I  cared  too  little  for  the  hypocritical  brute  to 
find  out  the  truth. 

At  Agra,  Delhi,  Amritsin.  and  Lahore  are  private  native  houses, 
surrounded  by  uncouth  and  slovenly  structures,  which  show,  in 
latticed  balconies  and  in  engrailed  pointed  arches  and  delicate  pil- 
lars, how  the  strange,  wild,  and  beautiful  art  of  the  moguls  sank 


:f 


i    HI 


■'.\        M 


O'Ol 


i'  !, 


ij  >i 


Isf 


i) 


u 


,  i  r '  i- 


M  i 


f^^K: 

r 

[Hr! 

^ 

H 

• 

^IK 

i 

TOMBS  OF  AGRA. 


iv% 


into  the  native  heart.  It  was  not  Hindoo,  it  could  not  be  moj^ui, 
so  Lately  burst  from  its  wiUl,  ungenial  plains.  It  spraufj  from  the 
delicate  instincts  of  the  careless  Hindoo,  ([uickcned  into  life  by 
the  wild  extravagance  of  the  untutored  Tartar.  No  simple  word- 
paintinjj  by  a  traveller  can  enable  the  reader  to  be  "  partakers  of 
his  happiness  "  in  lookin<;  upon  such  "  noteworthy  f>bjects  as  Ik  re 
surround  h.im."     With  a  picture  he  could  make  yru  sie  them. 

I  will,  however,  f^ive  a  short  de'-'M.ttion  of  the  tombs  at  Agra, 
and  then  I  shall  have  done.  First,  the  mausoleum  t)f  the  treas- 
urer of  Jahangir  and  father  of  his  celebrated  wife  Nur-Mahal 
— the  light  of  the  h.ircm.  The  main  structure  stands  upon  a 
raised  pl.itform  of  red  sandstone  and  is  about  70  feet  stpiare,  with 
octagonal  towers  half  projecting  at  each  corner  and  lifting  two 
stories  high,  and  surmounted  by  open-domed  pavilions.  The 
main  building  is  only  one  story  in  height,  but  on  its  nearly  flat 
roof  and  in  its  centre  stands  a  pavilion  25  feet  sipiare  and  one 
story  high  surmountid  by  .1  canopied  roof.  The  roof  of  the  main 
building  am'  u])per  pavili'in  has  a  broad  eave  supi)ortetl  by  pretty 
brackets.  A  pointed  arched  doorway  enters  the  middle  of  e.ich 
of  the  four  sides,  with  window  recesses  on  either  side.  The  entire 
structure  is  built  of  pure  white  marble  beautifully  sculptured  and 
inlaid  within  and  witiiout  in  I'lorentine  mosaic  or  in  vines  .md 
flowers.  The  inl.iid  ornaments  are  of  pretty  marbles,  the  interior 
being  of  precious  stones  and  some  gems.  The  windows  in  tiic 
recesses  of  the  first  stor\-  .uul  in  the  inclosure  of  the  jMvilifJn  on 
the  top.  are  of  most  dilicately  wrought  open  lattice  in  network 
p.Utern.  This  structure  is  in  perfect  ])reserv.itioii.  except  that 
many  of  the  gems  h.ive  been  removed  and  replaced  \'  ith  imitation 
in  stucco.  While  it  does  not  show  the  highest  artistic  design,  this 
inausoliini  is  1  ,1  finish  in  detail  unequalUd  bj- any  thing  seen  in 
India.  \'iew'(l  from  the  diminishing  end  of  a  gl.iss  it  looked  like 
a  perfect  c.ird  building.  I^y  many  travellers  it  is  thought  the 
most  pi  rfcct  thing  left  by  tin  mogul  empire.  This,  and  all  the 
things  I  bave  n.mied  are  of  wondrous  beauty  or  of  lofty  grandiur, 
and  wdl  live  in  memor)' — but  all  of  these  pale  and  dwindle  when 
brought  into  compaiison  with  the  one  perfectly  be.iutiful  thing, 
not  of  India  alone,  but  of  the  world.  I  almost  dread  naming  it, 
lest  \'ou  deem  me  extr.ivag.int  or  call  me  a  follower  of  fashion. 
l''or  I  confess  it  is  the  f.ishion  to  rave  over  it.  I  have  myself  seen 
travellers  visit  it,  saunter  about  it  for  a  while,  then  stop  to  exam- 
ine some  paltry  detail,  or  to  watch  the  flight  of  gay  parofpiets,  or 
ga/.i"  ;it  some  curiously  dressed  native  visitor.  And  then  I  have 
■  ifterward  heard  these  same  people  rave  about  the  beauty  of  the 
thing.  It  is  the  fashion  to  do  so.  I  refer  to  the  "  Taj."  I  li.id 
read  niuch  of  this  f.imous  structure.  1  expected  much,  but  had  an 
undefined  imjiression  that  I  was  to  1k'  di^^appointed — a  vague  feel- 
ing that  my  expectations  coudi  not  be  ri-,dized.  1  almost  dreaded 
this  when  approaching  it  through  the  great  south  gateway,  it.sclf 


V  ^S 


^\\ 


*u 


<t*    \^ 


1: 


lii: 


334 


.1  RACK  WITH  tut:  Six. 


1  " 


a  riKi{,'nirucr.t  building  of  red  sandstone,  no  feet  square  and  140 
feet  \\v^\,  i)ierced  by  a  porta!  75  feet  liigh  at  tlie  kiystone  of  its 
pointed  arcli.  Tliis  outer  structure  is  so  relieved  by  inlaid  white 
marble  in  ar.dje>ques,  friezes  of  vines  and  flowers,  and  eiUabla- 
tures  inlaid  with  ([uotations  from  the  Koran  that  it  looks  liyht 
and  cheerful.  The  yjateway  alone  would  be  a  jrjrand  mausoleum 
for  a  quei-n  or  for  tlie  proutiest  monarch,  between  this  anil  the 
tomb  is  a  -.trden  i/X)  feet  square,  planted  in  trees  of  richest 
foliage.  These  so  hid  th<-  mausoleum  that  I  ili<l  not  see  it  until 
standing  before  t!ie  great  archeil  p-ortai  (if  the  gate.  This  made  a 
framework  showing  t)iily  the  tomb  i)roper.  At  first  it  looked 
small,  for  so  perfect  are  its  proportions  tl;at  it  seenieil  ipiite  near, 
ami  ^o  light  and  air)-  as  to  >eem  a  j)!)  mtom  picture  thrown  upon 
tin  .i/ure  skj-.  The  picture  was  so  beautiful  that  I  paused  for 
xiine  minutes.  A  man  j)assed  along  the  platform,  on  which  the 
toinb  is  erected  and  just  in  front  of  tile  main  doorw.iy  ;  he  .ip- 
jiiMred  I  mere  ])igmy.  tliu~  showing  th--  distance  and  [jroving  the 
perfect  proportions  of  the  >tructure.  1  soon  knew  there  was  to 
lie  no  di-appointment.  The  Taj  was  even  more  beautiful 
than  I  had  anticipated.  As  1  w.ilked  forwanl  through  the  outer 
gatew.i)'  the  picture  widened  iiito  full  view.  .\s  it  wideiud  I 
Could  .ilmost  fancy  tlie  dome  was  lowering.  \'ew  and  cypress  liave 
made  a  broad  avenue  partially  concealing  the  lower  portion  of 
the  wings  and  min.irets.  In  the  middle  of  this  .iveiuie  is  a  broad 
ni.irble  walk,  with  .1  long  pool  of  |)ure  w.iler  coiituuil  Ixtweeii 
marble  a.iII>,  and  a  bntad  fount. lin  i>ed  half-w.iy  down.  I  w.dked 
slowly  along  this  walk  looking  at  the  buikling  liefoir  inc.  d,i/./.Iing 
and  white  in  the  Indian  noond.iy  sun.  and  still  it  seemed  to  be 
growing  lower.  init  removing  ni)'  e)es  from  it  when  p.i-.>-ing 
around  the  ceiitr.d  fountain  this  effect  ilisappeareil,  and  a-  I  sti!i 
appro.iched  it  grew  t.iller.  until  standing  in  front  of  the  gri  at  pi. it- 
form  on  which  it  w.is  l)uilt  I  reali/id  the  gr.mdeur  .ind  immensity 
of  the  whole.  Its  whole  length  from  min.int  to  min.iret,  .md  the 
height  to  t  )p  of  dome,  .ill  was  fully  before  me,  with  its  pinn.icie 
250  feet  above  me.  The  tiitire  structure  is  of  white-veiiied  or 
r.ither  slightly  i.l.iudeil  m.irble  ;  is  ^(lu.ire.  with  the  corners  cut 
off,  and  is  surmounted  by  one  gr.iiid  ilome,  w  itli  ,1  smaller  one  at 
each  corner,  and  four  lofty  minarets  over  1^0  feet  liigh  at  the 
corners  01'  the  wings.  In  front  .md  on  each  side  is  a  wonder- 
ful iloorw.iy,  ^m  odd  feet  high,  being  the  segment  of  a  .S.ir.icenie 
arched  v.iult.  I"l. inking  these  doorw,i\s  .ire  four  lofty  .irclied  win- 
dow recesses  in  twn  rows  one  above  .mother  to  the  level  of  the 
arch  of  the  great  port.il.  The  whole  is  inlaid  in  be.iutiful  figure*! 
and  arabLS(|ues  in  tlark  marble,  thereby  relieving  the  structure  of 
too  glaring  appearance. 

Under  the   great  dome  is  a  noble  vaulteil   room   of  polished 
white   marble,  and  wainscoting  exipiisitely   e,ir\rd   in  vines  and 


lotus  flowers,  and  above   inl.iid  in  costly  marbles.     In  the  centre 


THE   TAf. 


"S 


of  the  vaulted  room,  immediately  iindir  tlie  apex  of  the  dome, 
is  the  cenotapli  of  Montaz,  called  I'aj  M.ihal,  or  "crown  of 
the  iiouse."  It  is  cut  from  a  ^reat  l)lock  ..f  .'•now-white  ala- 
baster. A  part  of  it  is  riclilj-  carved,  and  the  wlioie  maiie  very 
beautiful  b\  ^naceful  viius  and  i)ritty  flowers,  composed  of  l.ipis 
lazuli,  corneli.tn,  toi);.-,'.,  blood-stom-,  jasper,  onj-.v,  moss-a;.;ates, 
j,'oldstone,  tiir(pioise,  iiul  v)tiier  costly  stones,  inlaid  in  tiny  bits 
so  as  to  ",;ive  tiie  bKndi  d  hues  of  the  flovvirs.  In  one  small 
flower  1  countrd  v>  "^eijar-ite  pieces.  \\\  the  sitle  of  Mont.iz  is 
the  cenot.iph  of  .Shah  Jahan,  of  the  saiMc  patterit  as  that  of  his 
wife.  He  built  this  wonderful  tomb  and  buried  his  wile  in  it. 
Afterward  he  was  buried  In'  her  side.  Around  the  cenotaph  is  a 
j;uaril  <m-  fiiice  six  feet  hii;h,  of  open  lattice-work  in  alabaster,  of 
most  delicate  workmanshi|).  representing  vini  s  and  (lowers.  In- 
side of  this  inclosure  we  sat  leanii';^'  b.uk  a;,;ainst  the  tomi).  .md 
John  ;w,'ave  an  <ictave  of  tones,  skippini,^  one  and  then  descending 
sk)wly  ;  these  were  echoed  with  supernatur.d  jirecision-the 
notes  were  caught  and  swelled  till  they  would  \'\\v^,  and  then  dieil 
like  .1  far-otf  <i.^h.  .\  deej)  Ij.iss  note  w.is  sent  back  in  terrible 
music. d  ^ro.m.  .nul  then  uould  melt  into  a  ilyin;,;  w.iil.  We  could 
nf>t  i^ive  a  note  in  >o  low  a  ton-,  that  it  would  not  return  to  u>  in 
rich  volume.  We  tried  then'  so  low  th.il  we'  cmdd  scarcely  hear 
e.ich  other,  thoui^h  not  four  .eet  ap.irl,  ye't  they  would  swell  until 
they  weuld  fill  tiie  chand)er  .md  come  b.ick  to  us  Kniiler  tli.ui  ue 
at  first  heard  t  Item. 

We  visited  the  Ta;  several  time-;,  .md  each  time  tiled  these 
mar\ell()us  echoes.  ,\n  im.iL^in.itive  tourist  in  his  book  st.iles 
th.it  he  trieii  the  recitation  of  .i  celebr.ited  poem  with  wonderful 
effect.  I  his  must  h.ive  been  a  lon_Lj  afterthought.  The  echo 
Lists  far  too  jon.^  to  m.d<e  .luy  recit.ition  or  ;my  soii;^' effective. 
A  single  music. d  tone  rises  mtl  then  f.dls  .iway.  l.d<inj.f  se\rr.d 
.seconds  to  die  out.  We  found  th.it  a  pure-  round  note  m.ide  a 
^re.itly  more  prohuiLjed  icho  i  li.m  .i  h.ir-li  one.  I  h. id  no  admira- 
tion for  tiie  ch.ir.icter  of  Moiii.i/-  she  w.is  cnu  I  ,ind  ir.iity  :  but 
after  listenin;^  to  these  sweet  echoes.  1  .ilniosi  im.i;.;ineil  1  had 
he.inl  her  s])irit  in  cli.isteuetl  rej^ei  .nee.  I  .irosi-.  broiiL;ht  '(.ine 
flowers,  and  l.tid  lliein  reverently  upon  her  tomb.  Art  for  ,i  m>i- 
nunt  sanctified  the  woman. 

Wi-  visited  the  T.ij  w^mw  .ind  .e^.iin  -  the  first  time  when  it 
was  bl.i/.in.;  under  .i  mid-d.ty  sun.  \\ C  spent  sever.il  hours  u.dk- 
in^  about  it.  without  clo>e  inspection,  but  imbibini;  its  j^l.Ti' 'lis 
biaulie^.  The  next  il.iy  we  w. itched  it  .is  the  sun  s.mk  in  the 
west,  .md  L;il(li(l  it  in  delic.ite  ,i;old.  .md  then  tinteil  it  with  rose 
as  he  drop|)ed  below  the  hori/.on.  Then,  .is  twili^dit  deepened,  the 
il.irk  inl.iid  marbles  in  cornice,  int. ibl, dure,  and  spandrels,  so 
effective  .is  relief  under  full  da\-liL;ht,  v.mished,  and  the  nui^hty 
.structure  W.IS  one  dre.im  of  pe,i:l_\'-,L;r,iy.  TIk  twiliijit  became 
yet   more  ileep,   .md   (^ave   .i   weird   effect  .dmost  si)ectr.il.      Ihe 


\v  -V 


'  '  ; 


"    I* 


2  26 


A  RACK  WITH  THE  SCN. 


hJ 


^m 


\m\ 


li<^lit  cloiuls  which  had  obscured  the  waxini,'  half-moon  rolled  by, 
and  then  the  pale  (|ucen  of  ni^lit  bathed  tiie  Taj  in  its  silvery 
fl()i)d,  and  shadows  of  ndn.iret  in  lofty  arclied  jjortals  and  in  ileep 
winihnv  recesses  came  out.  The  fleet.)'  chaids  cliascd  eaeli  other 
across  the  zenith,  now  throwing  the  whole  structure  into  lij^ht 
shadow,  .md  then  permittin;^  the  moon  to  wash  it  in  frosted 
silver.  ilien  it  became  what  some  one  has  \.\\>\\y  called  it — a 
"dream  in  marble."  I  wrote,  wiien  close  by,  the  impression  this 
m.irvellous  structure  left  upon  my  mind.  The  ne.\t  tlay,  under  a 
species  of  reaction,  wh.it  1  luul  written  seenjcd  extravagant.  It 
was  t)ver  three  weeks  ;il,'(i,  and  now  in  n\\'  calm  niomeiU.s, 
with  the  whole  thing  imlelibly  fi.ved  in  mj'  menior)-,  I  transcribe 
what  I  then  wrote. 

The  Taj  I  The  beautiful,  the  marvellously  be.uitiful  Taj 
Mahal  I  Tiie  inspiration  of  "  .\  .Midsummer  iNight's  Dnam  !  " 
The  (>tTspring  of  a  miraculous  marri;>ge  of  the  Muses  with  the 
(iraeesi  A  poem  witlu)Ut  words!  A  song  witliont  voice  I  A 
rii>thmic  d.mce  without  motion  I  A  zepli\r  from  an;.M  Is'  wings 
mouliled  ind  hanlened  into  marble  I  .A  chord  from  the  music  of 
the  spheris  dropped  and  cr)stalli/.ed  into  alab.isler!  A  dream 
ol  love  enshrined  in  a  translucent  pearl  I  Tin;  ctu  work  of 
human  h.mds  which  /.v  perfect  I  The  sublime^t  of  poets  >ang  the 
()d\s^ey  and  ch.mteil  the  Iliad.  Who  he  was  no  oiu:  knows. 
Hut  an  aihniring  world  lias  made  him  immortal,  ami  calls  him 
Homer.  The  sublimest  of  architects  conceived  and  built  the 
ton)lj  of  Montaz.  W'lio  he  was  no  one  kno\^s.  Hut  an  admiring 
worlil  will  make  him  immortal  b\'  naming  him  "  Ikiilder  of  the 
Taj." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


KKMAKKAIil.K     MOrNTAINS— A 
AM)    !'|;ai()(  Ks  -nil) 

i;i.i;i'iiA.\  !- 


M(M>i;i.     NATIVK     <  rrV— MDNKKYS 
AMI'.KK— A     UIDK   ON   AN 
-I  KoroDII.I'.S. 


Bombay,   Iiii/ii.    Fthnnuy   12,  i.S.SS. 

\Vk  came  frf>in  Delhi  to  Hoiiibax-.  !"'()0  inilos,  \i.i  I'lwali,  Joy- 
pore,  Ajniere,  Ahmed. ibail.  Har<nl,i.  aiul  Siir.'.t.  I'"iir  the  first  50 
miles  the  road  traversed  a  ll.it  pl.iiii,  <4radii,dl\'  ascendiui', ;  then 
it  was  cut  hy  short  raiii;es  oi  low,  barren  iiiouiUain^  praeticiUy 
treeless,  but  h.iviiij^  a  sparse  j^rowth  ol  brush  or  ^pre.uiiiii^  Lmj^Iics, 
.md  resembliiv^  somewhat  tlu;  low  uxiuntains  of  our  \v«:sterii 
plains.  These  hills  rise  abruptly  from  a  perfectly  ll.i^  surf. ice, 
.md  are  freipienlly  isol.ited  pe.iks.  The  jiLiins  looked  pirched 
.md  dr\'.  exci'pt  where  irriijalion  made  Ileitis  .'f  wheat  and 
^ram  look  like  p.itchi's  of  enier.dil.  (Juite  .1  l.ir;4e  area,  how- 
ever, of  w  h.it  .ijipe.u's  to  be'  desolate  waste,  was  ;^'rout\  in  wheat 
during  the  wet  se.isoii,  but  now  beini;  harvisted,  tlu'  l.iri^e-  henis 
of  cattle,  sluep,  and  ^o.its  const. ml ly  seen,  1)..\l  ^r.i/i-d  into  the 
very  soil  itself.  I'he  ^^rass  i)l.iiiis,  ton,  seem  to  be  e.ileii  so  close 
that  sc.ireeh"  ;my  vi'stii^e  of  lierbav,e  cm  be  seen  ;  yet  thousands 
of  cattle  weri'  feediu'^  upon  them.  There  is  i\idintly  some 
(pi.ditv  in  the  dried-up  ;^rass  here  which,  liki'  the  bunch-;.; rass  of 
our  f.ir  West,  affords  much  nourishment  for  animals. 

yVfter  ])assinj^  Ajmere,  some  250  miles  from  Delhi,  we  entered 
flat  v.dlcys  between  (|uite  hiL^h  r.m^es.  All  o.t  thesi-  mount. uns 
seem  to  be  met.miorpjnc,  nf  marble  .md  (jii.irti  uxl  fissured  s.md- 
stone.  (  )ftin  the  crest  wf  the  hills  were  jjreat  ledijes  of  tpi.ul/, 
which  _L,'le;imed  in  the  hot  sun  and  lookni  as  if  they  were  m.isst^s 
of  ice.  The  ro.id  w.is  ball.isted  with  it,  aiul  the  pl.dns  were  cov- 
ired  with  it  in  brokin  bits,  which  L;listenetl  and  sparkled  like 
llious.uuis  of  .icres  of  lii.imonds.  I  il..  not  exaj^ijer.ite  when  I 
s,iy  that  at  one  time,  for  .1  ^:  ">tl  many  miles,  the  eye  was  p.uiied 
by  the  sp.irklini,'  -tf  tiiese  i|u.rrT/  .nr  mic.(cet)U-  -tones.  .\  moun- 
tairnwas  l.imi  appeared  to  our  ?»»«ch.  br"ken  .imi  pictures(|ue,  but 
w^ntini^  beauty  fr mi  the-  lack  «rf  ^reeii.  In  the  rainy  .seasi>«, 
«»li<;n,  I  am  tnld.  vei^et.ition  spriuj^s  torw.irti  witli  m.irvellou^ 
rapidity,  it  must  In-  very  fine.  We  entere<l  these  mountains  <ind 
(ound  a  most  wonderful  formation.  As  f.ir  as  my  ^l.iss  woukl 
I  n.ible  mc  to  see,  the  hills  rising;  several   iumdred   teel.  were  .1 


VI  ' 


'  U'  > ,/ 


^.|r 


i  / 


i.  I 


i 


22i> 


w  Ji.icvi  ir/jj/  Till-:  sex. 


mass  of  t,'ranitc.  Iicrc  biokfii,  i)ilc(l  up,  and  there  in  huf:;c  natur.i! 
masses,  anti  all  water-WDrn  as  if  a  miijiity  toiient  liad  tiinibUd 
over  them  f'>r  countless  a;4es.  Deep  holes  and  pockets  were 
worn  into  the  soliil  stone  of  all  sizes,  from  that  of  a  peck  meas- 
ure up  to  caverns  uhich  woulil  shelter  .i  dozen  men.  Some  wer» 
as  round  as  mortars,  others  irre;^ular;  ^reat  massi>  of  roek 
weii^liiri;  tons  were  cut  nearly  in  two,  and  rested  as  if  on  stands. 
M.isscs  of  l.ooo  tons  were  as  smooth  as  if  rul)l)ed  down.  Masses 
<>f  lOO  or  more  tons'  wei_i;ht  were  piled  om-  above  the  other  ami 
all  rounded.  I  a-keil  a  r.iiiio.ul  inspector  the  name  of  this  ran_t;e. 
He  said  it  was  called  the  water-worn  mountain.  I'he  base  of 
tiifse  hiil>  i>  about  6cx)  I'cet  above  the  sea,  anil  the  peaks  are 
from  200  to  500  feet  lifted.  What  mi<;hty  torrent  tlui->  washed 
these  j;raiute  hills,  and  when  '  Were  they  once  uniler  the  sea 
and  afterwards  lifted  ? 

Ajmerc  is  in  the  we-vterii  edj;e,  ;is  llwah  is  in  the  ea■^tern,  of 
Raiputana — an  irrei^nl.ir  rounded  districl  l\ii)t;  in  the  centre  o( 
northwestern  India,  about  500  miles  in  tlianieler,  ami  \il  uiukr 
the  sway  of  .several  rajahs  and  m.ihar.ijahs,  called  independent 
princes,  who  i,'overn  their  |)eople.  so  they  think,  by  divine  riLjht, 
but  in  real.LV  by  the  will  of  sovereign  I'Jil;1.uu1.  .She  has  .1  "  Rt.>i- 
dent  "'  in  e.ich  "f  the  capitals, — a  well-paid  ailviser  to  each  of  them. 
but  a  spy  upon  their  actions.  TIk  rajahs  tax  their  subjects,  live 
in  ^plendid  palaces,  liave  their  zenanas  filled  w  ilh  numy  wives. 
keep  elephants,  and  staWes  filU-d  w  ith  hundreds  of  hor>es  of  noble 
breeds,  protect  the  f^anie  of  their  dominions  foi  tlu  ir  own  s|)oits, 
let  tij^'ers  live  in  their  junL;les  within  a  few  minute-  of  their  c.ip- 
itals  to  eat  the  unw.iry  pe.isants.  because  tluse  jioor  peasants  .ire 
not  alloweil  to  keep  fue-.irms  or  to  shoot  },Mme,  which  depi.d.ite 
upon  their  little  fields  of  wheat  ,  this  these  n.itive  princes  will  be 
permitted  to  do  until  Mnfjland  wishes  an  anne.vation,  and  then  an 
e.vcusc  will  be  found  for  such  anne.xation,  and  the  aforesaid  r.ij.ih-, 
will  be  pensioned  off,  .nul  their  ilominions  will  become  anollu  r 
province  of  her  im])erial  majesty's  empire  of  Imlia. 

The  country  of  Kaji)utana  is  consitleied  rather  desolate,  but 
from  wh.it  I  .>.iw  the  soil  is  rich,  but  can  never  do  its  full  duty  to 
man  until  a  better  and  more  ^eiural  system  of  irri!.,Mtioii  ^hall  be 
introduced,  and  trees  can  be  cultivatid  to  superinduce  .1  re;_;ul,ir 
and  i^cnc rally  diffused  rainfall.  There  are  districts  in  Indi.i  where 
the  rainfall  is  over  \GO  inches  .i  year,  a. id  yet  not  f.ir  off  there  are 
other  districts  which  suffer  tjieally  for  w.iter.  The  fielils  are  irri- 
gated in  these  by  water  draw  n  from  wells  by  o\i  n,  liftitit;  it  in 
jjreat  skin  buckets,  l-'ields  so  irri^'ated  lia\e  w  lie.it  wavini,'  in  a- 
^rcat  beauty  as  I  ever  s.iw,  while  just  over  the  irriL;.itin;.^  ditch 
there  are  tho'.is.mds  of  acres  of  l.md  w  hich  produce  sc.int\  crops  in 
the  hf»t  rainy  seasons,  but  are  desolate  at  this  time,  which  is  the 
best  for  fjood  crops  under  the  buinin^  sun  of  India.  The  K.ijputs 
are  a  fine-looking'  j)eople.      I  he\-  look  a  European  (/.  c.  a  wiute 


w 


i 


J  FY  PORE. 


'.2<) 


I' 


man)  full  in  the  eye,  arc  polite,  hut  not  servile  like  the  IkMic^alcsc, 
anU  have  ever  been  a  fiyhtin^"  jiiople.  They  ehiiin.  from  the 
iiighest  to  the  lowest,  to  be  chililren  of  tiic  sun.  Tiiey  were  .i 
constant  thorn  in  the  sides  of  the  mo<;ul  pailishas.  ;mu1  prob.ibly 
will  n<it  <iver-freel\'  yield  to  I',ni;latul  now,  unless  she  convinces 
them  that  her  dominion  will  be  better  for  the  masses  th.m  is  tlial 
of  their  i)resent  riders. 

Wo  sjient  a  couple  of  tia\'s  in  Jt  .  ,)ore,  which  is  s.iid  to  be  the 
iiaiulsomest  native  city  in  Itidia,  and  is  cl.umed  by  its  own  people, 
and  ailmitted  by  some  travellers,  to  be  the  model  n.ilive  state. 
The'princip.dity  h.is  6,ooo  to  8,000  scjuare  miles,  antl  1, 200,000  to 
1.400,000  population.  The  people  arc  cheerful-lookin;^,  but  I 
found  many  be^j^in;^,  a  thinij  which  sonu'  other  travellers  say 
iloes  not  here  exist.  It  is  Kss,  however,  than  in  other  p.uts  of 
India  where  more  luiropeans  [^o.  The  city  was  founded  iTxj 
years  aL,'o  by  the  i)hilosophcr  I'rince  Jey  Siiii^h,  because  his 
priests  told  him  there  was  .in  old  llimloo  theory  that  no  city 
should  bi-  occiipit'd  in'i-r  ;i  thousand  j'ears  ;  so  he  <piit  the  olil 
.uul  built  the  new  capital  a  few  miles  olT.  lie  m. irked  the  city 
off  nearly  two  miles  sipiare,  built  its  walls  and  its  p.d.ices.  and 
then  induced  the  people  to  build  afti-r  his  own  desi^Mis.  The 
streets  cross  each  other  at  riL;ht  anyles,  and  are  very  broad, 
the  main  ones  beini,^  60  feet  wide,  and  one  of  them  i  i  i.  In 
.ill  other  n.itive  cities  the  streets  are  but  tortuous  l.mes.  like 
little  paths  throui;h  an  irrei,ndar  haphazard  camp.  The  houses 
on  the  four  or  five  broadest  streets  are  to  a  considerable  extent 
of  a  common  design,  a  sort  of  mi.xturc  of  Orient. il  and  I'ortu- 
yucsc.  On  these  streets  they  arc  from  two  to  five  stories  hi^h, 
and  .ire  of  stone,  plastered  over  ;in<i  tinted  a  sort  of  pe.ich-blow 
color.  The  effect  is  very  strikin;^  and  prett)-.  We  found  much, 
however,  to  be  a  pretty  sham  ;  many  of  the  houses  seemin;^'  of  more 
than  one  story  are,  in  f.ict,  one-storv  structures,  the  second  an<l 
upper  ones  bein-fj  merely  walls,  with  their  pretty  cut-stone  lattices 
opening  upon  the  tops  of  the  houses  in  the  rear.  The  town  is 
lighted  b.y  {;as,  the  only  one  (native)  I  have  so  f.ir  seen.  .\t  nii^ht 
these  streets  are,  at  this  season,  very  bright  and  interestinij. 
Their  New  \'e,ir  is  about  to  commence,  ;ind  for  a  month  there  is 
.1  sort  ot  Ihl;!)  carniv.il,  bands  of  yoiin;^  men  t;oini,'  about  sini^in;.;, 
and  b.mds  of  women,  in  brilliant  colors  and  but  partly  coveriu'^ 
their  f.iccs,  laui:[hin<,r  anil  chatterintj  like  maL,'pies.  The  soiij^s  of 
the  \"ouii'^  men  were  cvitlently  to  amuse  the  women,  for  thesu 
would  titter  ami  pass  on.  Our  t;uide  said  the  soni^s  were  ef  a 
kind  we  would  think  not  fitted  for  ladies'  ears.  Hy  the  way,  I  am 
told  that  throuLihoiit  India  the  wit  of  tlieatres  and  daiK'e-<onys  is 
very  broad,  anil  not  by  any  means  ch.iste.  Much  cotto'-,  is  i^rown 
in  the  principality  of  Jeypore,  and  there  is  consid-.i.ible  wealth 
amon;4  the  natives  of  the  city.  The  pa!  ice  is  a  luindsonie  six-  or 
seven-story  building,  erected  on  the  mydu!  of  .Vkbar's  tomb,  at 


\. 


ajo 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


1 1  > 


I     I 


H 


Scciindra,  each  upper  story  rcstinj^  on  the  platform  of  the  next 
iituliT  story,  and  some  ci^ht  or  more  feet  less  in  size.  A  imiseinn 
is  now  bein;4  finislieil,  having'  the  same  features,  and  of  ^Meat 
architectural  beauty,  and  with  mucli  ex(iuisite  carving  in  white 
marble.  The  jiortion  already  finished  has  many  instructive  s|)eci- 
mens  of  mechanical  arts  and  of  n.itural  histoi)-. 

On  the  friezes  of  some  inner  courts  and  of  the  Iialls  are  Iliiidoo 
inscriptions,  with  Knj^lish  translations,  some  of  which  I  ^'ive  as 
specimens  of  Hindoo  ma.xims,  taken  from  its  sacred  writings  : 

"  A  man  obtain-.  .i  proptr  rule  nf  .iriioii 
lly  li'ikiiit;  im  liis  iiciijhbors  as  hini'-clf." 

■'  l.iki-  tlircacK  nf  silvtr  '•ecu  lhninj;li  (  ryslal  lie.ids 
l.tt  lii\c  lliroutjh  jjiiiiil  (lutiU  s1k>«." 

"  III-  nnly  <li«s  not  live  in  vaii. 

V\  III)  all  the  means  uilliiii  liis  reaeli 
l!m|ilciys  his  venlth,  his  thmii^hl,  his  speech, 
I"  advance  the  guml  u(  nlher  men." 

"  If  I  nnw  Like  this  step,  wliat  next  ensues? 

Shoiihl  I  (■■rliear,  what  then  nuist  I  e>.|itit  ? 
Thus  ere  he  a(  ts  a  man  shonhl  well  relied, 
.Vnd  wei^liin^  Imtli  sides,  his  course  should  chmikc." 

"  lio  naught  to  others  which  if  ijnnc  to  thei- 

Would  cause  thee  |'ain  ;  ihis  is  the  sum  "I  duty." 

"  There  is  no  reli^^i'm  hiclur  ihan  triilh." 

"  To  injure  none  )iy  thought  or  uonl  or  ileed, 
To  jjivo  to  otiiers,  to  he  kind  to  all — 
I  his  is  the  constant  duty  of  the  yood." 

Whate'ir  the  work  a  man   performs,   the  most   effective  aid  to  it,  completion — the 
most  prolitii   source  of  success,  is  eiier^jy  without  desp.iiidency,' 

"   The  liitle-minded  ask  :     lielonns  this  man  to  our  family  ?' 
The  noble-minded  rei^ard  the  huu' '  '  race  as  all  akin." 

"    The  wisi  make  failure  eipial  to  success," 

These  are  .some  of  the  shorter  ones,  the  Ioniser  ones  beint^  fre- 
quently the  best,  but  too  lonj;  for  my  note-book.  About  the 
museum  is  a  jniblic  j^'arden  of  70  odd  acres,  beautifully  and  most 
expensive!)-  laid  out,  with  an  aviary  containing  all  the  birds  of 
rich  plumage  found  in  India  ami  Malasia.  It  was  a  revelation 
of  beauty.     There  is  also  a  very  valuable  collection  of  animals. 

One  set  of  cages  was  very  attractive  to  us.  They  contained 
ten  huge  tigers,  all  caught  in  pits  after  ])roving  themselves  b.id 
man-eaters.  Mut;e  brutes  which  sprang  at  us  as  we  passeil  with  such 
ferocity  that  they  hurt  themselves  against  the  iron  bars.  The  tigers 
of  our  menageries  are  j)iippets  compared  to  these  fierce  monsters. 
A  few  annas  to  the  keeper  obtained  for  me  the  privilege  of  doing 


MONKF.ys,  P/LICOCKS,  AND  jrXii/./'lS. 


23' 


a  little  practice.  Lookin^f  a  fierce  fellow  stcaclii)'  in  the  cyi-,  and 
speaking,'  in  a  stern  but  stcaily  voice,  1  tapped  him  shar|)ly  ovit 
the  head  with  my  rattan  cane,  lie  bliiiketl  his  eyes.  I  follDwet! 
up  the  action  with  a  sliarper  stroke  before  he  ii.ul  opened  ids 
eyes,  and  made  liim  ipiiet  down.  I  trietl  iinotlu  r,  and  aetually 
made  him  lie  down  on  his  sitle  ami  i)urr  like  a  j.;re;it  cat.  I  did 
not  fail  once.  The  n.itive  looked  at  nie  cidmirintjly,  and  askeil  our 
jjuide  if  I  w.is  not  a  keeper  of  m.m-e.itcrs.  What  an  amount  of 
nerve  a  l>rnvf  man  has  wiieii  he  knows  dauj^er  cannot  re.uli  him  I 

The  Maiiarajah  has  established  .i  public  liljrar\',  a  school  of  .arts, 
and  a  school  for  j^irls  as  well  as  boss,  and,  either  of  his  own  will  or 
under  the  advice  of  the  Hritish,  has  made  the  city  not  oidy  a  very 
prettj'  and  unifiue  oiu',  l»ut  also  oni'  which  .ipi)arent!y  is  a  blessinj,' 
to  his  peopK-.  lie  has  brought  much  l.md  under  eultiv.ition 
by  .in  increased  system  of  irrii^ation.  Hut  the  m.mv  b.uuls  of 
deer  we  saw  close  to  the  wile. it  fu  Ids  pro-.eil  th.it  his  preserved 
{^.ime  w.is  more  a^ree.ible  to  him  than  ijemficial  to  the  people's 
crops. 

Alon;4  this  road  to  Ahmedab.id  \\c  saw  many  troops  of  monkeys 
of  all  sizes,  from  iliat  of  a  terrier  dotj  up  to  a  larL^e  setter — now 
rompinij  over  the  fields  close  by  the  tr.ick,  or  sprinijiuL,'  fmtn 
branch  to  braneh  on  the  trees,  or  sitting;  up  on  some  promnient 
limi)  wisily  watching  us  as  we  whiz/.etl  by.  They  are  s.icred.and 
the  natives  mviT  hurt  them,  althoiii^h  lhe\-  are  fearful  thievi'S, 
and  m.ike  destructive  r.iids  upon  iKidsand  orch.inls.  We  also  saw 
lar};e  numbers  t)f  pe.ic(.>cks — noble  birds,  with  tails  and  plum.iije 
of  };re.it  l)e.iut)'.  Ihey,  too.  .are  sacred.  .\  f(ueii^nir  would  be 
mobbed  should  he  shoot  one.  Thej'  .ire  not  wilil.  .is  tra\ellers' 
books  would  le.id  us  to  supposi'.  The)'  are  simpK'  free  anti  roam 
;is  they  ple,i>e,  but  .iii'  h.irdly  less  t.inu-  thin  the  s.ime  birds  are 
on  an  .Americ.m  f.irm.  The)'  are  r.irely  seen  f.ir  .iw.iy  from 
villaijes  and  f.irms.  The  monkeys  .md  pi'.icoeks  alon^  this  road 
were  the  only  wild  ones  seen  by  us  since  we  left  Ten. mi;. 

W'e  have  now  been  the  whole  len^'th  of  India,  from  Calcutta  to 
Peshawur,  and  back  to  Hombav.  on  the  other  side  of  the  land,.uKl 
except  at  the  foot  of  the  1 1  im.ila\MS,  h.'.ve  not  seen  a  single 
forest,  or  indeed  wh.it  we  would  call  a  wood.  Trees  tlu  re  ,ire 
everj'where  .ilon^  the  roails,  aloui;  the  hetli^e-rows,  scattered  about 
the  fields  .and  plains  and  dottetl  over  the  hills  and  mount. lins,  but 
nothin;4  like  wh.it  most  of  us  at  home  h.ive  supjioseil  to  consti- 
tute ,111  Indian  juiii^K'.  .\11  uncultiv.ited  or  waste  kinds  ;ire  c.illed 
"  jun_L;le."  "Out  in  the  juni^le  "  means  about  the  same  thinij  lure 
as  with  usto  saj'  "out  on  the  prairie" — that  is,  on  the  uninclosed 
lands,  whi.'ther  iretil  or  bare,  or  in  ^'r.iss.  The  "  mount.iin 
jungles,"  where  the  ti^er  has  his  home,  ,ind  from  which  he  comes 
down  to  carry  off  people  or  domestic  .mim.ils,  have  no  tree:  of 
considerable  size,  but  ;ire  dotted  over  with  shrubby  growth 
resemblin;,'  haws  and  thorns,  and  covered  b)-  hjw  .scattered  bushes 


>i.. "  ^ 


HI','! 


'*^1 


V 

i: 


'  I 


u     '  • 


n 


[H: 


m 


A  RACK  11/ T//  Tin-  SUN. 


and  rocks.  On  these  no  native  thinks  of  k"'"R  alone  at  ni^'ht  or 
even  by  day  in  some  of  thcni. 

Snipe,  duck,  jjecse.  tr.iiics  of  many  kinds — some  of  tlicm 
standing;  four  feet  lii^di,— several  sjiecies  of  starlinj^s,  robins,  wiiil 
pigcon>,  ami  crows  are  in  vast  numbers  throu^'hout  the  land,  and 
are  very  ilestructive  to  the  i^Towini;  crops.  In  ni.my  locdities 
c.ich  tieid  has  a  watchman  to  drive  tiiem  off.  ( )ften  these  watch- 
men are  on  platfnrius  built  on  the  tops  of  low  trees,  the  branches 
beinfj  trained  flat  for  this  purpose.  Here  he  watches  at  ni;^ht  to 
drive  off  monkeys  and  deer,  and  to  be  re.idj-  for  tlu'  early  bird. 
He  is  ^ener.illy  armed  with  a  bow  or  a  slin^  with  which  he  throws 
a  pebble,  ami  so  dexterous  is  he  that  many  a  biril  is  killed  even 
when  lOO  y.irds  away. 

We  visited  parts  of  the  palace  at  Jeypore.  The  billiard-room 
excited  our  cupidity.  It  was  cari)eted  with  many  ti^a'r,  leop.ird, 
and  other  beautiful  skins,  the  trophies  of  the  ruler's  dexterity  in 
tile  chase.  Tiie  princely  stables  have  300  horses,  each  with  his  or 
her  full  pedi;.4ree  at  tlu-  toilt^uie's  end  of  the  j^room.  M,in\-  of  them 
were  be.iutiful  animals,  but  too  f;it,  for  the\'  are  but  rarely  used. 
Kvery  horse  is  not  only  haltered,  but  tethered  b>-  each  foot,  so 
that  he  can  move  onlj-  a  little  way.  ILach  animal  has  its  special 
jjroom,  who  sleeps  in  a  sort  of  cuddy-hole  over  the  horse's  head. 
On  our  second  day,  bein^'  prosiiled  with  a  permit  from  his 
hiL;hness,  we  visitetl  Amber,  the  old  city,  now  diserteil.  It 
lies  .1  few  miles  off,  hi^h  in  a  rocky  {:[orL;e  or  narrow  valle>'.  The 
mount.iins  .iround  are  crowmxl  bj'  forts  ami  castles  on  tliz/.y 
hei;^ht<.  m.ikin;,'  them  very  |)ictures(iue.  Lofty  walls  climb  the 
spurs  of  the  mountains,  ami  the  old  palace  or  rei;al  castle  sits 
superbly  on  the  crest  of  a  hi;^'h  hill  overiookiiii;  a  beautiful  little 
lake  of  clear  water,  on  the  rocky  shores  of  which  were  several 
crocodiles  baskinj;-  in  the  hot  sun.  Our  road  L;oin;4  to  .Andier  lay 
throuj^h  a  wilderness  of  kiosk  memorials  of  the  past  dead.  Little 
dr)mes  supported  by  the  nio.st  delicate  pillars  and  prettily  carved. 
Then  we  came  to  a  lake  of  stai^nant  water  of  perhaps  500  acres,  in 
the  centre  <»f  which  is  a  lar^e  and  stately  olil  jialace  now  tleserted, 
its  lower  arches  di])pinf^  into  the  water  and  its  balconies  and 
domes  reflected  in  the  placid  sheet.  This  water  is  tlark  and  un- 
healthy, covered  with  all  sorts  of  wild  fowl,  and  filled  with 
crocodiles.  We  counteii  20  odtl  of  them.  Skirtiiijj;  this  we  reached 
the  foot  of  the  gorge  leading  to  the  old  city.  To  this  point  we 
went  by  carriage. 

Here  we  fouml  one  of  the  raj.ih's  huge  elei)hants,  of  which  he 
has  %o,  which  was  to  carry  us  on  over  the  steej)  pas~.  His  f.ice 
was  oddl\- painted  in  Oriental  characters.  We  made  our  obeisance. 
He  soon  came  down  on  liis  haunches,  shot  his  huge  legsstraignt 
behind,  while  his  front  legs  stretched  before  him,  and  on  a  sjiort 
l.idderwe  mounted  the  mass  of  meat.  Then,  with  a  motion  which 
made  Johnny    think  feelingly  of    the  swell  of    the    Pacilic,   our 


lif 


w 


AMliKR.     SCOKCJ//\a  A  J'N//:SJ\ 


^iS 


ni.istodon  triul^ccl  slowly  up.  W'licii  \vc  reached  a  particularly 
steep  place  he  j^roaiRMl  and  L;runted  and  sometiinesf^ave a  whistle, 
which  |)Iainly  told  me  that  he  lhout,dit  a  Chicai;o  :!00-aiid-odd 
pounder  was  more  than  the  law  should  allow,  Aloti^  our  up-hill 
road  ;^ray  moid<eys  with  bl.uk  faces  and  lon^'  tails,  ran  .about  the 
trees.  Some  of  tlu'ni,  witli  their  old-folk  faces,  made  me  feel  like 
saying;;  "  I5e  ^ood-natured.  oKI  fellow;  I  confess  to  our  kinship." 
After  pas-,in;4  the  cle.ir  little  lake  I  before  nuiitiontil,  we  were 
carried  up  .i  very  steep  road  into  the  court  of  the  old  pal. ice,  which 
is  kept  in  fair  repair,  and  is  yet  occasionally  used  by  the  rajah  for 
.1  few  days  at  a  time.  It  is  .i  princely  old  i)lace  with  a  noble 
audience-hall  .ind  nianj-  rooms  e\(|uisitely  decor.ited  with  c.irved 
marble  and  inlaitl  uurk,  the  \aulled  ceilings  bein^'  ornamented 
with  a  sort  of  ^d.iss  or  t;ypsum  woik.  Small  pieces  of  mirror  were 
laid  on  a  backijrount!,  then  the  whole  covered  with  a  i)laster 
peculi.ir  to  Jcyporc,  m.atle  of  lime  .md  ;.;round  m.irble,  and  bcirini; 
a  polish  .IS  li.ird  and  t'me-ijr.iined  as  pure  ivorj'.  The  artist  then 
cut  throuj^h  this  thin  pe.nly  plate  to  the  bits  of  mirror,  workinj.^ 
out  beautiful  tlesi|^ns  in  delicate  tracint;s,  so  that  the  whole  looks 
like  is'ory  llowers  and  \ines  ilr.iwn  over  mirrors.  The  bits  of  ;^Iass 
are  convexed,  so  th.it  they  reflect  any  person  below  and  make  him 
look  l.'iri;e  and  muhi|)lies  him  in  infinite  numbers.  This  pal, ice  is 
built  on  the  nuxlel  of  the  padish;i"s  |)al.ices  .it  Delhi  and  A^r.i,  and 
served  as  .i  key  to  m.uiy  lhini;s  I  ilid  not  before  fully  uiukrst.md. 
For  seeini;  how  p.irts  are  now  used  I  understood  better  how  the 
old  ]ialaces  were  occupied  centuries  at;o. 

Ilia  temple  within  the  pal, ice  inclosure  a  il.iily  offerini;  of  a  j.;o.it 
is  maile  to  the  bloo(l-|o\inij  |^(jiKless  K.ili.  We  did  not  see  the 
day's  sacrifice,  but  the  blood  was  yet  fresh  on  tiie  lloor,  whicli  h.id 
flowed  before  our  arrival  from  the  neck  of  the  little  offerin<^.  The 
neck  is  severeil  by  one  blow  from  the  liiL;h-pi  iest.  I  was  lookin-^ 
at  the  little  jjoddess,  w  ith  her  necklace  of  skulls,  sittini;  b.ick  in  a 
deep  shrine,  thrmij^h  m>'  o])era-^lass.  I  s.iw  the  priest  suspected 
mo  of  some  disrespect  to  tlie  deity.  I  i^Mve  him  the  f^lass.  lie 
marvelled  at  the  huLje  si/e  the  im,ii;e  assumed.  I  then  turned  the 
^lass  aiul  made'  him  look  throui^h  the  diminishiiiL;  enil.  "  Wow  I 
ti'crv' .'  w-o-w  I  "  w,is  his  exclamation  of  surjjrise.  After  making 
our  offering'  I  was  about  to  liijht  my  cit,'ar  in  the  court  with  a 
m;u;nifyin^  or  sun-!^l,\ss.  I  saw  his  reverence  w.inted  to  see  the 
thinij.  I  motioned  him  to  hoUl  out  his  hand.  His  f.ice  wore  an 
expression  of  sweet  innocence  as  the  ra)s  of  the  sun  began  to 
briL;hten  on  the  b.ick  of  his  fist,  but  when  they  };ot  to  a  little 
focus  .uul  shot  a  hot  spike  into  his  brown  skin,  he  uttered  .mother 
"  Wow  I  wow  I  o-h,  wdwl  o-h,  w-o-w  !"  I  never  saw  such  merri- 
ment as  the  other  jiriests  and  attendants  exhibitei.1,  and  the  good 
old  ch.ip  himself  seemed  hugel)'  to  relish  the  joke.  lUit  I  noticed 
that  every  now  and  then  he  looked  .it  the  little  ro.isted  spot  and 
rubbed  it  with  his  other  h.md.    He  will  know  a  sun-^dass  hereafter. 


w; 


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>  'I 


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,.^.. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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1.0     IfBSISi 


III 


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us 


2.2 


li£    Hill  2.0 


11.25  ill  1.4    IIIIII.6 


V 


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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WfST  MAIN  STRKT 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MS80 

(716)  •72-4503 


&? 


834 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\m 


Sitting  in  the  beautiful  Di\van-i-Am,  or  hall  of  audience,  we 
enjoyed  a  Uiignificent  view  far  down  the  narrow  valley,  the  old 
deserted  city  nestling  down  beneath  the  frowning  heights,  all  sur- 
mounted with  huge  crenulated  walls  and  strong-looking  forts,  once 
making  the  place  almost  impregnable.  Here  the  ruler  even  now 
holds  audience  once  a  year,  sitting  in  this  noble  pillared  hall  with 
its  curved  arches.  We  ate  a  nice  lunch,  and  drank  to  the  health 
of  the  rajah,  wishing  that  his  line  may  continue  to  rule  his  people 
for  yet  ten  successions  before  the  haughty  lords  of  the  far-off 
island  in  the  west  may  demand  his  country  for  themselves.  He 
claims  the  sun  for  his  ancestor,  to  whom  he  traces  his  lineage 
through  140  known  names,  the  oldest  pedigree  of  any  ruling  king, 
compared  to  which  that  of  Wales,  who  laid  the  corner-stone  of 
the  Jeypore  museum  three  j'ears  ago,  is  that  of  a  plebeian. 

Bidding  the  good-natured  cutter-off  of  goats'  heads  good-bye, 
we  walked  to  the  foot  of  the  hill,  where  Jumbo's  cousin  had  pre- 
ceded us,  and  on  bended  knees  took  us  upon  his  broad  back  for 
our  homeward  voyage.  At  the  end  of  the  gorge  our  mahout 
bade  us  hold  on,  when  the  great  hulk  again  came  down  upon  his 
haunches  for  us  to  disembark.  We  placed  a  token  of  good-will 
upon  his  trunk,  which  he  handed  to  his  keeper,  and  then  gave  us 
a  parting"  salaam."  I  thought  I  saw  a  twinkle  in  his  little  shrewd 
eye,  which  said  he  would  not  care  to  climb  steep  mountains  with 
many  such  denizens  of  the  far-off  Porkopolis  upon  his  back.  We 
parted  with  him  under  the  shade  of  a  sacred  tree,  near 
whose  roots  was  a  little  fane  sheltering  a  Hindoo  god.  Behind 
us,  but  hidden  by  the  hills,  was  the  city  of  past  ages,  in  the 
distance  before  us  were  the  walls  of  the  living  city  with  its  gay 
people.  A  huge  black-faced  monkey  looked  wisely  at  us  from  an 
overhanging  bough.  A  sacred  peacock,  mounted  upon  an  old 
ruin  close  by,  spread  his  gorgeous  fan  of  emerald  and  sapphire. 
The  sun  blazed  down  upon  our  heads,  reminding  us  we  were 
among  His  chosen  children.  Below  us  was  the  stagnant  lake, 
with  its  crocodiles  and  its  thousands  of  water-fowls  and  its  partly 
sunken  palace,  once  the  brilliant  summer-house  of  a  monarch.  It 
was  a  weird  spot,  with  a  long-dead  past.  We  wished  some  of 
our  far-off  friends  could  have  been  with  us  to  partake  of  our 
happiness. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


15EAUTIFUL  SARACENIC    REMAINS— WOOD-CARVING— PURCMASINO 

SHAWLS— NATIVE    DIPLOMACY— BOMBAY— TOWERS    OF 

SILENCE— ELEPHANTA— THE  151 II  OK  FEBRUARY. 

Bombay,  India,  February  14,  1888. 

AlIMEDABAD,  the  principal  city  of  the  province  of  Gujcrat,  and 
once  the  capital  of  the  kingdom  of  that  name,  was  built  by  the 
conquering  shah,  Ahmed,  who  poured  his  myrmidons  over  this 
side  of  India  when  the  fifteenth  century  was  young.  There  were 
no  natural  reasons  why  a  city  should  be  upon  this  level  land,  but 
the  dark  eyes  and  brown  skin  of  a  daughter  of  the  neighborhood 
did  what  her  father's  arms  could  not  do,  subdued  the  conqueror. 
In  those  old  days  cities  were  created  like  a  grecnbacker's  dollar — 
by  dec-ee.  "  Fiat  urbs  "  thundered  the  sultan,  and  a  city  would 
spring  iipon  the  teeming  Indian  soil.  So  the  sultan,  with  Sipra's 
kiss  ye.  warm  upon  his  lips,  said  :  "  A  city  shall  be  thy  home, 
sweet  daughter  of  the  sun,"  and  Ahmedabad  grew  from  the 
materials  plundered  from  two  or  three  other  cities  near  by.  Warm 
was  the  faith  of  the  conquering  followers  of  the  prophet.  They 
levelled  Hindoo  temples  of  idolatry,  and  decked  their  new  city 
with  those  jewels  of  Islamism,  the  beautiful  mosques  of  marble 
and  stone.  The  ruins  or  remains  of  these  abound  in  the  place, 
and  attest  the  zeal  of  the  people  who  built  them,  and  show  how 
the  nimble  fingers  of  the  artisan  could  cause  cold  marble  and 
rough  stone  to  catch  the  warm  tiats  of  dawn  and  to  assume  the 
softness  of  woven  fabric.  Many  of  these  ruins  are  very  beautiful. 
They  lack  the  evidences  of  painful  toil  and  lavish  treasure- 
waste  shown  in  careful  detail  at  Agra  and  Delhi,  but  evince 
a  freer  hand  with  the  chisel  and  a  more  artistic  design.  The 
sculptured  friezes  and  brackets  of  the  balconies  of  the  minarets 
and  the  cornices  about  tombs  and  mosques,  though  weather-worn 
and  looking  somewhat  rough,  are  very  fine. 

In  their  hatred  of  idolatry  the  followers  of  Mohammed  so  ab- 
horred its  every  form  that  they  would  not  even  carve  any  breathing 
thing  about  their  own  places  of  worship.  Vines  and  trees,  shrubs 
and  flowers  soon  weary  the  eye  when  they  are  fixed  in  marble. 
No  art  has  yet  been  able  to  make  them  wave  and  bend  in  the 
breeze.  Animals  and  men  have  expressions  of  limb  and  face, 
which  seem  to  vary  as  the  beholder  looks.     Not  so  with  any 

335 


>  'i  'k 


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:«II1 

M 


^  \  ^ 


;^' ^ 


f>  r  I 


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Ni, 


vm 


i!.»f 


»?! 


|s!i 


1M' 


236 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


•IM 


vegetable  tiling.  So  Saracenic  genius,  forced  by  religion  to  dis- 
card every  representation  of  a  living  thing,  invented  a  design 
which  never  wearies  the  eye — a  design  which,  fixed  in  the  hardest 
stone,  seems  ever  to  vary  and  to  change.  The  eye  cannot  hold  a 
single  detail  long  enough  to  become  tired  of  it.  It  cannot  be 
described  by  language.  No  word-picturing  can  make  one  see  it. 
The  eye  alone  can  take  it  in.  When  a  writer,  however,  says  a 
thing  is  adorned  in  painted  or  sculptured  "  arabesques,"  everyone 
comprehends  that  tlie  ornamentation  is  of  that  strange  mixture  of 
vine  and  twig  and  Arabic  lines,  letters,  and  characters  which  no 
memory  can  so  carry  off  as  to  reproduce  with  accuracy.  Pencil, 
with  scale  and  compass,  can  make  a  true  copy,  yet  something  is 
always  wanting ;  the  sun  alone  in  photography  can  give  one  a  true 
image. 

In  no  place  that  I  have  seen  is  there  such  a  wealth  of  ruined 
Saracenic  art  as  in  Ahmcdabad.  Yet  to  the  casual  traveller  it 
offers  but  little  attraction.  An  artist,  however,  could  walk  again 
and  again  througii  its  tortuous  streets  and  crooked  lanes,  and  be 
delighted  by  the  carvings  in  wood  on  cornices  and  friezes  and  in 
large  brackets  and  dentals.  0\\  many  an  old  tumble-down  house 
are  seen  specimens  which  our  plutocrats  would  be  delighted  to 
have  on  their  sideboards  or  in  their  libraries.  The  houses  were 
never  decoratec'.  by  the  painter's  brush.  The  woodwork  is  soft- 
ened down  by  lime  to  a  velvety  shade  ;  the  delicate  design  is  thus 
all  relieved  from  any  taint  of  the  shop,  but  looks  as  if  it  had  been 
cut  or  worn  in  by  nature's  own  perfect  craft.  I  saw  some  brackets 
three  to  four  feet  long,  no  longer  supporting  the  balcony  or  cor- 
nice above,  but  hanging  down  and  loose,  and  nearly  ready  to  fall. 
If  I  had  known  the  language  I  would  have  gone  to  the  owner  of 
these,  and  for  a  reasonable  price  probably  have  been  permitted  to 
carry  them  away,  to  be  the  envy  of  a  home  artist.  In  the  rear  of 
an  old  ruined  mosque  are  two  blind  windows  of  half  circle,  cut  in- 
to solid  stone  in  veins  so  artistically  as  to  se;.'m  as  wavy  and  soft  as  a 
spider's  web.  They  have  been 'copied  into  photos,  and  appear  on 
many  a  piece  of  carved  cabinet-work  now  sent  from  this  city  to 
the  rich  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe.  In  the  show-rooms  of  a 
manufacturer  we  saw  its  imitation  in  a  beautiful  cabinet  just 
finished  for  some  New  York  man  of  money. 

By  the  way,  in  every  shop  we  have  visited  the  most  costly 
articles  were  for  the  American  market.  In  this  sliop  we  saw  20  or 
more  men  at  work  on  friezes  and  entablatures  for  a  Mr.  Forrest, 
of  New  York.  It  will  be  a  pleasure,  when  he  sips  his  wine  and 
looks  upon  his  elaborate  sideboard  of  teakwood,  to  know  that 
some  of  the  most  exquisite  of  its  rich  carvings  were  done  by  a 
father  and  son,  the  little  fellow  being  only  seven  j-cars  old.  How 
his  taper  little  fingers  did  handle  the  tiny  chisel,  and  how  accurate 
was  his  eye,  when  he  wrought  from  the  hard,  meaningless  wood 
a  flower  that  almost  had  an  odor,  so  soft  was  its  petal!  The  child 


EXQUISITE  CARVING  AND  WEAVING. 


237 


had  inherited  the  talent  of  his  father,  as  he  liad  done  from  his 
parent,  and  so  through  a  long  line,  perhaps,  far  back  to  those  peo- 
ple whose  handicraft  made  the  rich  relics  in  marble  and  wood  of 
three  to  four  centuries  ago.  Here  children  follow  the  father's 
craft.  It  is  deemed  a  sort  of  family  disgrace  for  them  to  permit 
the  profession  of  their  father  to  die  out  in  their  generation.  A 
boy  steps  from  his  mother's  very  breast  (for  children  are  not 
weaned  until  four  or  five  years  old),  into  a  companionship  with 
the  father,  and  a  partaker  of  his  toil  and  a  copier  of  his  art.  We 
have  been  in  several  small  carpet-weavers'  houses  at  Amritsir  and 
Lahore  and  other  places,  and  everywhere  a  large  part  of  the 
weaving  was  done  by  little  boys. 

Carpets  are  not  woven  with  a  shuttle,  but  each  thread  or  yarn 
of  the  wool  is  put  into  the  warp  with  deft  fingers,  the  left  hand 
opening  the  one  for  the  right  to  insert  the  other.  A  piece  of  yarn 
is  run  tlirough  and  then  cut  off  with  a  knife  to  make  the  even, 
velvety  tuft.  The  weaver  does  not  have  a  design  before  him,  but 
in  some  shops  another  boy  sits  in  front  with  the  design  and  calls 
in  a  sort  of  chant  the  next  color  to  be  inserted.  The  weaver  re- 
peats this  as  he  runs  the  color  in.  The  first  boy  calls  out  for 
several  who  are  on  the  other  side  of  the  web,  and  thus  dictates  for 
them  all.  To  one  not  understanding  the  thing,  the  chant  would 
be  taken  for  a  sort  of  religious  exercise.  In  one  shop  in  the  Pun- 
jab there  was  no  fixed  design  at  all.  There  were  four  weavers  on 
a  rug  of  say  lOx  15  feet.  They  had  a  common  idea  in  their  heads, 
but  each  worked  out  his  portion  of  the  carpet  simply  with  a  free 
hand  as  he  went.  They  progress  only  a  few  inches  a  day.  The 
manager,  to  my  inquiry  as  to  the  cost  of  these,  simply  replied: 
"  They  are  very  costly.  That  is  what  Americans  want."  It  seems 
a  general  impression  throughout  the  world  that  our  people  value 
a  thing  by  the  amount  of  money  which  is  worked  into  the  fabric. 
An  American  to  whom  I  was  showing  a  charming  curio,  and  which 
I  told  her  had  cost  me  a  mere  trifle,  warned  me  not  to  disclose  the 
cost  at  home — that  it  would  not  be  appreciated  unless  it  was  sup- 
posed to  cost  much  money.  And  there  is  a  general  impression 
throughout  the  East  that  Americans  are  all  very  rich.  A  native 
will  at  any  time  quit  an  Englishman  to  ply  a  Yankee,  whom  he 
thinks  ready  game.     These  people  are  natural-born  diplomates. 

A  famous  Frenchman  said  words  were  invented  to  conceal 
ideas.  Certainly  the  shrewd  Indians  rarely  permit  their  words  to 
express  their  thoughts,  and  a  dealer  in  works  of  art  or  objcts 
de  Virtu  considers  a  lie  a  proper  part  of  his  science  in  trade.  He 
lies  while  he  tries  and  weighs  his  customer.  They  catch  us  at  the 
stations,  at  the  hotels,  on  the  streets,  and  on  the  thresholds  of  the 
temples.  What  they  ask  is  no  indication  of  what  they  will  take. 
After  they  try  us  with  their  price,  they  invite  our  offer.  We  have 
to  be  guarded  or  we  shall  be  taken  up.  A  fellow  wished  to  sell 
me  a  bracelet  of  silver.     His  price  was  30  rupees.     I  offered  him 


'    «  'W\ 


I    \  .'■' 


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mf: 


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238 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


fM 


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I".  ' 


six.  He  looked  insulted,  but  soon  plied  mc  again.  I  stuck  to  six. 
He  assured  us  there  were  seven  rupees  of  pure  silver  in  the  thing, 
and  took  out  a  pair  of  scales.  The  bauble  balanced  six  and  a  half 
rupees.  He  assured  us  there  were  4,000  separate  i>ieccs  in  it,  and 
had  cost  15  days  of  labor.  We  replied:  "We  do  not  want  it." 
"  Yes,  but  master  rich,  I  poor  man  ;  make  proper  ofTer."  Wc  offer 
eight.  He  puts  up  his  pack.  Wc  go  to  our  rooms.  He  follows 
and  says:  ''Take  it;  I  want  master's  certificate."  Every  one 
purchasing  is  asked  to  state  the  fact  in  a  little  book,  and  is 
pleaded  with  until  the  statement  is  made  that  the  purchases  were 
cheap. 

I  looked  at  cashmere  shawls  at  Manich  Chung's  in  Delhi.  It 
was  through  his  house  that  the  now  famous  Gen.  Roberts,  then  a 
subaltern,  made  his  break  upon  the  streets  in  which  the  mutineers 
were  carousing,  and  helped  to  win  the  city.  I  was  shown  siiawls 
witli  asking  price  at  400  and  600  rupees.  I  looked  at  them,  ex- 
amined them  with  my  magnifying  glass,  Manich  all  the  time 
chattering.  He  finally  said:  "Ah,  those  not  for  you  ;  you  good 
judge — you  expert  "  ;  and  he  brought  out  a  beautiful  thing,  a 
dream  in  wool.  "  That  's  the  thing  for  you  ;  Americans  want  the 
best."  "How  much?"  "Two  thousand,"  the  reply.  "Why, 
what  do  you  take  me  for?  I  am  no  Vanderbilt."  "  But  you 
good  judge;  you  want  best;  make  offer."  I  offer  800.  He 
laughed  at  me.  I  said  :  "  All  right  ;  good-by."  He  followed  me 
to  the  door.  We  part.  He  comes  down  to  the  carriage.  "  Ah, 
just  come  back  up  my  house."  The  fly  walks  into  the  trap.  Wc 
sit  down  and  talk.  He  plies  me  with  many  fabrics.  But  all  the 
time  he  wants  me  to  take  the  2,000  shawl.  He  wants  my  certifi- 
cate. He  knows  it  will  help  him  sell.  But  I  reply  :  "  I  am  not 
buying  shawls ;  I  really  do  not  want  any."  "  Yes,  you  do  ;  you 
rich  ;  you  rajah  of  big  America  city."  "  Who  said  that  ?  "  "  Masi 
at  hotel  last  night  told  me  you  are  rajah  like  governor-general." 
He  touched  my  weak  spot.  I  like  to  be  thought  rajah  of 
Chicago.  He  then  wanted  to  know  if  I  would  like  to  see  some 
Nautch  girls  dance.  I  intimated  that  I  had  outlived  that  sort  of 
thing.  He  said  :  "  Oh,  no  ;  you  old  in  head,  young  in  heart  !  " 
Again  a  tender  spot  was  reached.  He  then  regretted  that  I  had 
not  come  three  days  sooner.  His  grandmother  had  died.  The 
funeral  was  beautiful  I  I  offered  a  tear  of  sympathy.  He  felt 
my  kindness.  He  said  it  was  sad,  but  she  was  ninety  years  old, 
and  they  had  a  splendid  time  at  the  funeral.  He  had  shut  up 
his  shop  two  days.  Had  not  sold  a  thing.  I  said  that  was  most 
bad.  He  admitted  it,  but  said  he  had  no  more  grandmothers.  I 
wished  to  know  how  many  wives  he  had.  "  Not  many,"  he  said, 
but  was  not  specific.  I  intimated  that  I  would  like  to  see  his 
wife.  His  eyes  expressed  painful  regret,  but  religion  would  not 
permit.  He  gave  me  a  cheroot.  I  asked  him  to  smoke  one. 
He  said  he  could  not  smoke  those— they  had  been  touched  by  a 


BUYING  SHAWLS.     A  NATIVE  WEDDING. 


239 


low  caste.  Tliat  is,  by  mc.  All  this  while  a  handsome  young 
Hindoo  was  standinj^  before  us  with  a  beauty  of  Cashmere  fi^racc- 
fully  draped  over  his  litiie  form.  We  still  talked  of  Hindoo 
matters,  but  he  managed  to  round  up  to  the  shawl.  One  man 
had  been  three  years  weaving  it.  To  shut  him  off  I  said  :  "  Eight 
hundred."  With  a  sigh  he  said  :  "  Take  it,  but  I  lose  much  rupees 
on  it.     But  all  right ;   I  want  Chicago's  governor's  certificate." 

We  have  witnessed  several  marriage  processions,  but  none  so 
perfect  in  details  as  one  at  Ahmedabad.  It  was  in  a  narrow  street. 
First  came  a  band  of  music,  three  little  boys  and  girls  on  richly 
caparisoned  horses.  One  of  the  little  ones  was  not  two  years  old, 
being  held  on  by  his  father.  By  the  side  of  each  little  rider,  all 
of  whom  were  gorgeously  togged  out,  were  .several  of  their  nearest 
of  kinsmen.  liefore  each  horse  was  a  band  of  music.  Then 
came  the  groom,  about  ten  years  old,  all  in  gold  and  fine  silk,  and 
mounted  on  a  superbly  gotten-up  animal.  Then  another  band 
was  followed  by  a  troop  of  20  or  30  women,  richly  clad,  and  all 
singing.  The  burden  of  tlieir  song  was  the  hope  that  the  bric.e 
would  be  kind  and  obedient,  and  that  her  mother  would  not 
domineer  over  the  bridegroom.  There  were  a  dozen  or  more 
bands.  The  drum  was  the  predominating  instrument,  and  of  all 
sizes.  Such  a  din  and  clatter  !  There  was  apparently  no  attempt 
at  any  air.  The  main  thing  was  noise,  and  it  was  made.  The 
procession  was  going  to  the  bride's  home,  where  all  were  enter- 
tained ;ind  received  presents.  Then  the  bride  was  taken  to  the 
groom's  home,  her  lad\'  friends  accompanying  her  and  singing. 
The  song  of  the  latter  was  a  wish  that  the  groom  would  be  kind 
and  v.ould  listen  to  the  advice  of  the  mother-in-law.  At  his 
house  pr(,\scnts  were  again  given,  this  time  to  the  bride's  friends. 
The  little  couple  then  saw  each  other,  and  were  required  to  be 
affectionate.  One  night  she  stays  with  him  at  his  home  and  then 
returns  to  her  own.  They  will  not  see  each  other  again  for  six  or 
more  years,  when  they  will  be  old  enough  to  be  really  husband  and 
wife.  This  was  simply  the  betrothal  marriage,  but  entailing  many 
binding  obligations.  If  he  die  before  they  meet  again,  she  will  be 
a  widow  and  will  be  doomed  to  all  the  hardships  and  self-denials 
wiiich  make  a  Hindoo  widowhood  worse  than  death.  She  can 
never  marry  again,  can  never  wear  fine  clothes  and  jewelry,  can- 
not eat  delicate  food,  nor  sing  and  dance.  If  poor  she  will  have 
to  become  a  servant,  perhaps  a  cook,  but  is  forbidden  even  to 
taste  the  dishes  she  prepares.  No  wonder  widows  lament  the 
prohibition  of  the  "suttee"  or  widow-burning  pyre.  He,  how- 
ever, may,  after  their  real  marriage,  take  several  more  wives  if  he 
wishes.  One  of  the  songs  of  her  lady  friends  bears  an  invocation 
that  he  would  love  her  and  not  take  another  wife  to  steal  away 
his  love  from  this  his  first  and  real  bride. 

Here  in  Bombay  I   saw  a  Parsec  marriage  procession.     It  was 
very  quiet.     A    European  band  preceded  it  and  played  nicely. 


■M'^K 


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11 


;l  L 


24^ 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\    I 


.    I 


,'J  : 


Then  followed  some  40  or  50  Parscc  men  all  in  white.  After 
them,  carriers  with  presents.  Following  them  were  nearl)-  as 
many  Parsee  women  dressed  in  their  charming  robes  of  gauze 
and  silk. 

At  Ahmedabad  we  visited  the  splendid  Jain  temple.  The 
Jains  arc  a  sort  of  mixture  of  Brahmin  and  IJuddhist.  They  do 
not  believe  in  any  Creator  ;  nature  was  its  own  self-creator — a  sort 
of  pantheistic  creed.  Charity  and  good-will  to  all  living  things  is 
their  religious  rule  of  action.  They  kill  nothing  and  eat  no  flesh. 
The  temple  is  exceedingly  rich  in  decoration.  They  were  to 
have  a  grand  festival  in  a  few  days,  and  were  decorating  an  image 
in  the  inner  shrine,  a  sort  of  deified  child  of  nature.  Its  face  wore 
a  most  kindly  and  gentle  expression,  and  evidently  was  intended 
to  be  beaming  with  love.  A  very  intelligent  man  took  us  around 
and  through  the  temple,  and  explained  their  tenets.  When  I 
had  heard  him  I  said  :  "  Your  God,  then,  is  a  God  of  love?"  He 
looked  quite  horrified,  and  said  :  "  Oh,  no  ;  we  abhor  sensualism." 
He  had  misunderstood  me.  I  explained  that  I  meant  by  "  love  " 
that  holy  feeling  which  goes  out  in  affection  for  all  created  things. 
"Exactly,  exactly;  that  is  exactly  our  religion."  It  is  quite 
a  large  sect  in  India,  and  embraces  many  good  and  learned  men. 

The  country  for  some  50  miles  from  Ahmedabad,  and  thence 
on  to  Bombay,  is  quite  heavily  wooded,  that  is,  in  scattered  trees 
about  roads,  hedges,  etc.  The  main  crop  is  of  cotton;  much 
more  than  half  of  all  the  cultivated  fields  were  in  this  plant. 
Some  were  just  opening  in  bright  yellow  blossoms  ;  others  white 
with  bursting  bolls. 

We  stopped  a  few  hours  at  Surat,  once  the  chief  town  of 
India,  first  under  the  Dutch  and  then  under  the  English.  Before 
the  rise  of  Bombay  it  had  a  population  of  900,000.  It  then  sank 
to  less  than  100,000.  Bombay  took  away  its  Arabian  and  Abys- 
sinian trade.  It  is  now  again  improving  and  has  130  odd  thou- 
sand. It  wears  a  general  air  of  decay,  but  its  old  winding  streets 
were  interesting. 

Here  coolie  women  do  the  heaviest  kind  of  work.  One  deli- 
cate-looking young  woman  I  saw  carrying  on  her  head  bags  with 
four  bushels  of  potatoes  in  each.  At  the  pier  they  were  unload- 
ing a  cargo  of  coal.  Each  would  walk  up  a  steep  bank  with  a 
bushel  of  coal  poised  upon  her  head.  Another  gang  was  discharging 
a  load  of  cobble-stones.  They  are  as  straight  as  arrows,  and  when 
walking,  step  with  great  gracefulness  of  motion.  Their  dress,  as 
of  the  same  class  in  Bombay,  is  of  cotton  cloth,  so  caught  about 
the  legs  as  to  make  a  sort  of  trouser,  coming  half  down  the 
thighs  and  fitting  like  the  breeches  of  our  unweaned  babies,  but 
caught  behind  instead  of  in  front.  The  men's  trousers  of  the 
coolie  class  come  below  the  knee.  As  everywhere  else  so  far 
visited  in  India,  they  have  scarcely  any  calf  to  the  leg.  I  suppose 
that   has   ever   been   a   characteristic    of    these  people,  for   the 


COOLIE  WOMEN.     BOMBAY. 


«4« 


imapfes  of  the  gods  in  the  caves  of  Elephanta,  executed  several 
thousand  years  ago,  have  the  same  deficiency.  In  all  old  images  the 
leg  tapers  from  the  thigh  to  the  ankle.  The  African  has  a  high 
calf  and  a  long  shank  ;  the  European  a  well-developed  calf  and 
short  shank.  With  these  people  the  shank  maybe  said  to  run  up 
to  the  knee.  The  Japanese  have  calves  remarkably  developed. 
These  people  were  evidently  intended  by  their  Creator  to  sit 
upon  their  legs.  They  did  it  in  JJuddha's  time.  His  oldest  image 
represents  him  as  sitting,  with  the  soles  of  his  feet  turned  upward. 
Indians  can  sleep  thus  for  hours.  We  had  for  a  day  a  fat  high- 
caste  native  officer  for  a  fellow-passenger.  He  had  room  to  lie 
down,  but  instead  of  doing  so  he  gathered  his  legs  under  him  and 
slept  for  several  hours.  It  is  very  convenient.  If  I  were  a  be- 
liever in  transmigration  I  would  pray  that  after  my  next  birth  I 
be  so  trained  that  I  may  thus  rest  myself.  When  the  native 
people  come  to  a  stop  they  squat  down  as  instinctively  as  does  a 
dog.  It  is  amusing  to  see  a  crowd  enter  a  station  and  await  a 
train.  Everyone  at  once  squats  on  his  haunches  and  takes  his 
case.  It  is,  too,  a  great  saving  of  chair  legs,  and  this  is  a  decided 
convenience  in  tliis  water-saturated  atmosphere,  where  chairs  have 
a  constant  tumble-down  habit.  I  have  not  used  a  single  one  in 
India  which  did  not  creek  ominously  when  I  sat  upon  it. 

Bombay  is  a  magnificent  city  of  800,000  people,  and  is  rapidly 
growing.  Somehow  or  other  I  had  ex])ccted  to  find  it  otherwise. 
I  suppose  from  reading  years  ago.  The  high  price  of  cotton 
during  our  war  gave  it  a  tremendous  impetus.  It  was  metamor- 
phosed in  a  dozen  or  so  years  from  a  rambling  town  of  mean  houses 
into  a  city  of  palaces.  The  public  buildings  already  completed,  or 
being  erected,  of  light-colored  sandstone,  of  a  deep  olive-tinted 
trap  or  porphyry  rock,  or  of  dark  brick,  are  magnificent  structures, 
comparing  favorably  with  those  of  any  European  capital.  The 
city  is  rich,  and  the  Bombay  presidency  pours  its  treasures  into  its 
capital.  If  it  meets  with  no  decided  reverses,  the  next  quarter  of 
a  century  will  make  it  one  of  the  handsomest  cities  in  the  world. 
It  is  on  an  irregularly  shaped  island,  with  a  pretty  little  bay  look- 
ing toward  the  ocean,  of  half-moon  shape,  inclosed  by  two  long 
narrow  strips  or  necks  of  land  running  far  out  like  the  horns  of  a 
new  moon  ;  one  of  these  is  low,  the  other  of  some  200  or  more 
feet  in  height.  This  latter  is  Malabar  Hill,  on  the  extreme  point 
of  which  is  the  governor's  residence.  It  is  a  commodious,  low 
building,  surrounded  with  fine  trees,  and  with  the  swell  of  the 
ocean  breaking  in  gentle  murmur  close  by.  On  the  other  end  of 
this  narrow  ridge,  say  a  mile  off,  where  it  widens  into  the  main 
island,  are  the  Parsees'  burying-ground  and  the  famous  "  Towers 
of  Silence."  Here  the  Parsee  dead  are  given  to  the  vultures. 
Between  these  two  points  are  fine  residences  of  the  rich,  their 
front  windows  looking  over  the  city,  two  miles  away,  and  their 
rear  overlooking  the  broad  Arabian  Sea.     The  main  harbor  of  the 


n  11 


342 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


t.\    f 


I  .  1 
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i  . 


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■V   I 


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city  is  at  its  rear,  on  a  narrow  strait  separating  the  island  from 
terra  firma. 

Much  has  been  told  of  the  Towers  of  Silence,  and  very  much 
of  exaggeration.  One  writer  speaks  of  the  dismal  surroundings 
and  death-like  silence  ;  another  of  the  fetid  atmosphere  ;  and  still 
another  of  h's  having  climbed  up  on  the  wall  and  accidentally 
dropping  his  hat  and  following  it ;  and  ending  with  an  amusing 
account  of  his  escape  from  the  birds  and  the  watchful  eyes  of  the 
keeper.  All  pure  imagination  and  pretty  writing.  The  towers 
are  five  in  number,  apparently  25  feet  in  height,  and  the  largest 
from  70  to  100  feet  in  diameter.  Within  the  outer  wail,  some 
five  or  more  feet  below  the  top,  are  three  consecutive  tiers  of  slabs, 
sloping  and  slightly  troughed  :  the  outer  tier  for  men,  the  next  for 
women,  the  inner  one  for  children.  Within  the  whole  is  a  large 
well-like  chamber  covered  by  a  grating.  Leading  from  the  bottom 
of  this  well  arc  drains  into  outside  wells.  The  dead,  whether  liigh 
or  low,  rich  or  poor,  approach  these  solemn  precincts  on  a  perfect 
equality.  All  are  borne  by  mourners  afoot,  no  pageant  or  evi- 
dences of  worldly  vanity  being  displayed.  Two  men  regularly 
employed  for  the  purpose  (none  others  ever  enter  the  tower)  bear 
the  body  through  a  small  opening  into  the  tower.  All  garments 
and  ornaments  are  then  removed.  "  Naked  you  came  into  the 
world,  naked  you  must  go  out,"  said  Zoroaster.  The  garments 
covering  the  corpse  arc  then  immediately  burned.  "  Fire  cleanses 
from  all  impurities,"  said  Zoroaster.  The  bearers  then  retire, 
and  in  one  hour  every  vestige  of  flesh  is  removed  from  the  bones 
by  the  mournful  birds.  The  bones  are  afterward  dropped  or  arc 
washed  down  the  grating,  and  falling  below  are,  under  the  action  of 
the  sun  and  water,  and  sometimes  aided  by  chemicals,  in  a  year  or 
two  dissolved  into  lime,  and  flow  out  into  the  other  wells.  "  The 
earth  is  a  good  mother  to  all,  and  should  not  be  contaminated  by 
the  fetid  remains  of  her  children."  Thus  taught  Zoroaster.  The 
lime  which  flows  into  and  becomes  a  part  of  mother  earth  does 
not  contaminate. 

There  can  be  no  noxious  odors  ;  for  the  dead  are  brought 
here  before  decay  sets  in.  There  are  about  500  vultures  hover- 
ing about  the  locality.  The  average  burials  are  four  to  five  a 
day,  but  scanty  feed  for  so  many  voracious  birds.  There  is 
nothing  awful  about  the  premises  more  than  about  any  ordinary 
graveyard  ;  but,  to  the  contrary,  there  is  a  beautiful  garden, 
bright  with  cheerful  and  sweet  flowers  and  many  trees.  No  trav- 
eller could  climb  any  of  the  walls,  for  they  arc  as  smooth  as  any 
plastered  piece  of  masonry,  and  there  is  nothing  close  to  them  to 
permit  any  one  to  mount  upon.  No  Parsees  even,  other  than 
those  employed  for  the  purpose,  ever  enter  the  towers.  Into 
which  tower  the  dead  of  any  day  will  enter,  is  decided  by  a  regu- 
lar committee,  and  simply  on  sanitary  grounds,  so  as  to  enable 
each  to  take  care  of  its  proper  proportion.     Perched  upon  the 


s 
o 

CD 


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(  ; 


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'■■  I 


TOWERS  OF  SILENCE. 


•43 


parapet  walls  of  one  of  the  towers  were  probably  lOO  vultures 
mournful  and  silent.  A  smaller  number  were  on  another  tower, 
and  a  few  were  soaring  aloft.  I  may  be  callous,  or  I  may  possi- 
bly  rapidly  adapt  myself  to  my  surroundings.  From  one  or 
other  of  these  causes  I  felt  no  shock  at  the  thought  of  the  occu- 
pation of  the  birds ;  and  the  manner  of  disposing  of  the  dead 
created  no  feeling  of  disgust.  After  all,  is  not  man  more  a  creat- 
ure of  habit  than  of  animal  instincts?  Nothing  proves  this  more 
than  the  readiness  with  which  we  la)  .i;/  loved  dead  in  the  ground, 
to  rot  slowly  in  oo/,y  slime,  or  to  be  di  .     ured  by  nasty  worms. 

The  Victoria  station  is  a  superb  building,  costing  several 
millions;  I  know  of  no  railway  building  at  all  comparable  to  it. 
It  looks  like  a  splendid  palace.  I  .le  architecture  adapted  to  and 
employed  in  this  climate  is  admirable  for  artistic  effect.  It 
admits  of  deep  shade  ;ind  shadows.  Corridors,  deep  recesses,  but- 
tresses, and  balconies  which  with  us :  iiut  out  tiie  light,  here  protect 
from  the  burning  sun-rays,  and  permit  those  effects  of  light  and 
shade  so  dear  to  the  architect.  Me  can  and  does  employ  all  these 
adjuncts,  and  is  building  a  city  truly  magnitkent.  Even  the  native 
portion  of  the  town,  with  balconied  houses  of  all  hci[.^lus,  from 
two  to  six  stories,  and  of  many  tints,  and  lying  between  the  old 
foreign  settlement  toward  the  northern  end  of  the  island  and  the 
new  foreign  quarter,  which  occupies  the  site  of  the  old  forts  and 
fortifications  in  the  east,  is  both  picturesque  and  somewhat  artis- 
tic. The  fortifications,  no  longer  valuable  with  the  new  processes 
of  naval  warfare,  have  been  razed  to  the  ground  and  noble  public 
buildings  and  private  business  houses  have  been  reared  in  their 
place.  The  native  city  is  densely  packed  with  a  seething  mass  of 
pc()])le  of  many  nationalities,  all  in  their  repective  costumes. 

The  caves  of  Elephanta,  on  an  island  back  of  the  city,  are  inter- 
esting. Great  temples  are  cut  in  the  solid  rock,  and  colossal 
statues  of  Shiva,  the  first  offspring  of  the  one  unknown  and  un- 
knowable God,  the  most  popular  deity  of  the  Hindoos,  are  carved 
from  the  natural  rock  of  the  high  hill,  in  a  cave  hewn  out,  leav- 
ing pillars  and  columns  of  the  solid  stone  to  support  the  over- 
hanging mass.  Shrines  and  inner  temples  are  chiselled  into  the 
hard  porphyry.  The  god  in  colossal  proportions,  with  his  wor.sliip- 
ping  mortals  at  his  feet  and  his  attendant  heavenly  beings  float- 
ing around  above  his  head,  are  a  part  of  the  original  rock-l,)uilt 
hill.  Shiva  is  shown  in  his  dual  nature,  one  side  male,  the  ocher 
female,  even  to  the  mi  lutest  feature  and  ornament.  In  one  niche 
is  the  creation  in  accoid  with  the  Mosaic  idea,  borrowed  from  or 
loaned  to  the  Hebrew  law-giver.  When  God  made  Adam,  "  male 
and  female  created  he  them."  Then,  as  Mother  Eve  spi-ang  from 
Adam's  side,  so  Parvati  bursts  from  Shiva,  and  becomes  his  wife. 
The  god,  wearied  with  the  sins  of  man,  his  creature,  became  the 
avenger,  and  hurls  destruction  in  thunderbolts  over  the  world. 
Then  he  demands  the  sacrifice,  and  receives  victims  to  appease 


1  tig 

11 

{g» 

'  A 

/,'.'■ 

344 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\    r 


'f^   I 


4   i 


his  wrath.  In  another  shrine  he  has  become  the  redeeming  god  ; 
and  finally  he  sits  in  placid  peacefulness  in  the  heavens.  All  of 
these  incarnations  of  the  attributes  of  the  Deity  are  represented 
in  huge  statutes  or  in  bold  a/to  relievo  in  the  different  shrines. 
In  the  middle  of  the  cave  is  the  main  shrine  of  the  great 
creator  of  man  in  three  awful  forms — the  "  Creator,"  the  "  Pre- 
server," and  the  "  Destroyer."  Strange  similarity  between  the 
revelations  of  Moses  and  the  old  legends  of  this  land.  The  He- 
brew  says  Moses  was  the  leader.  These  people  say  he  was  tiie 
borrower.  May  not  the  truth  be  that  both  got  the  legend  from  a 
far-off  prehistoric  people  of  great  civilization,  the  very  thresholds 
whereof  we  have  not  yet  passed  in  our  boasted  enlightenment, — 
a  wise  and  virtuous  people,  whose  homes  and  cities  were  con- 
tiguous to  Egypt  and  India,  and  now  deep  buried  beneatli  the 
Indian  Ocean  ?  This  is  a  land  of  dreams.  Why  may  I  not 
dream  as  others  have  done,  and  speculate  in  my  dreams?  High 
beyond  yon  blazing  sun  lives  the  might)'  primal  cause.  May 
not  I  bow  my  head  in  adoration  of  the  one  unknown  and  un- 
knowable God?  Unknowable,  because  utterly  incomprehensible 
to  human  brain,  and  inconceivable  to  human  thought.  All- 
powerful  and  all-wise,  He  cannot  be  other  than  all  good.  Am  I 
rash  when  I  find  myself  unable  to  believe  that  He  fails  to  hearken 
to  the  sincere  worship  of  all  His  creatures,  whatever  be  the  form 
of  their  worship  ?  I  will  here  say  that,  according  to  one  of  the 
Brahminical  ideas,  there  was  from  the  beginnin";  one  I'nknown 
and  unknowable  god,  who  deposited  an  egg,  from  which  burst  by 
his  own  individual  strength  Shiva,  the  known  all-powerful  (iod, 
the  Creator  of  the  world  and  of  man.  He  was  male  and  female, 
anil  answers  somewhat  to  the  Mosaic  Adam.  The  idea  and 
analog)'  would  have  been  complete  had  Adam  been  deified  in  the 
record  of  Moses. 

Lady  Reay,  wife  of  the  governor,  has  a  successful  fancy  fair 
now  in  progress,  inaugurated  to  extend  a  noble  charity  founded 
by  a  warm-hearted  Parsee.  The  Duchess  of  Connaught,  a  fine 
specimen  of  German  womanhood,  occupies  one  stall.  Lady  Reay 
another,  and  beautiful  Parsee  ladies  others,  and  so  on.  Native 
games  are  exhibited,  in  which  native  cavalrymen  are  the  per- 
formers on  horseback.  Concerts,  where  ices  are  sold,  and  titled 
English  ladies  are  the  singers  and  players.  Hindoos  and  Mo- 
hammedans— with  ladies  closely  veiled, — English  women  in  the 
wretched  European  costumes,  and  Parsee  ladies  in  their  exqui- 
site robes  of  gauze  and  with  spirituelle  faces — every  kind  of 
people  crowd  the  grounds,  and  are  full  of  enjoyment  and  anxious 
to  purchase,  all  for  sweet  charity.  The  bright  wife  of"  the  gov- 
ernor kindly  recognized  me,  and  after  shaking  hands,  asked  me 
what  she  could  sell  me.  "Your  smile,  my  lady,  the  memory  of 
that  I  can  carry.  My  coffers  are  too  full  for  any  thing  more 
ponderous."     "But   this   is  better;    my   phjto   for  one  rupee." 


m 


1 


COA'TRASTS  /X  INDIA. 


245 


"Two,  if  you  attach  your  autograph."  It  is  done,  and  the  lady 
invites  me  to  call  at  Malabar  Hill,  as  she  turns  to  give  a  kind  word 
to  a  native  in  lofty  turban.  1  then  ask  the  Duchess  of  Con- 
naught  if  an  American  can  carry  home  with  him  her  photograph. 
With  a  winning  smile  she  regrets  she  had  not  sun-pictures  of 
herself,  and  I  pass  off,  my  republican  heart  full  of  delight  be- 
cause the  daughter  of  a  prince  and  daugliter-in-law  of  an  em- 
press had  smiled  upon  me — oh,  vanitas  vanitatian  ! 

To-day  I  called  upon  the  Governor's  lady.  Lord  Reay  is  a 
kind-hearted  Dutchman,  who,  by  the  accident  of  a  death  in  a 
far-off  line,  found  himself  all  at  once  the  owner  of  a  Scotch  title. 
He  married  then  a  very  bright  and  very  rich  woman,  and  fills 
one  of  the  finest  positions  in  the  gift  of  the  English  crown.  It  is 
whispered  here  that  the  ladj-  really  wields  the  governorship  ;  a 
slander,  of  course.  With  words  of  regret  the  lad)'  excuses  her- 
self because  of  her  great  fatigue  at  the  fair  yesterday.  A  half- 
dozen  grand  natives  in  blazing  red  see  me  into  my  carriage  close 
by.  The  road  leading  from  Government  House  is  being  repaired, 
and  native  women  with  forms  as  delicate  as  that  of  my  lady  arc 
carrying  upon  their  heads  huge  baskets  of  stone.  I  think  of  the 
fearful  fatigue  of  God's  anointed  one  in  the  cool  palace  I  had 
left. — fatigue  almost  insufferable,  because  she  had  been  on  her 
feet  /ic't?  whole  hours  the  day  before,  and  now  at  noon  was  trying 
to  pass  it  off  on  a  soft  couch.  I  looked  at  the  poor  women  carrying 
heavy  burdens  beneath  the  blazing  sun.  I  thought  of  the  two 
vast  ext''<;nies  in  this  land,  and  uttered  the  off-repeated  ejacula- 
tion :  "  How  long,  O  Lord?"  A  coolie  water-carrier  came  by; 
she  was  high  caste,  for  none  other  can  handle  any  thing  to  be 
eaten  or  drunk  by  people  of  the  upper  castes.  Another  woman 
of  low  caste  wished  to  drink  :  the  carrier  let  water  run  from  the 
goat-skin  bag  into  the  IkukIs  of  the  thirsty  one.  Lord  Reay  him- 
self, could  not  touch  that  goat-skin  with  his  li[)s  without  contami- 
nating it.  Wen;  he  to  lay  his  hands  upon  the  mouth  of  the  bag, 
it  would  be  thrown  awaj-.  Of  such  hue  is  the  reign  of  caste. 
The  high-caste  Lnglish  governor  would  not  permit  a  man  not 
socially  fit  to  grace  his  board.  The  high-caste,  half-naked  Hindoo 
woman  would  consider  her  rice-bov.l  contaminated  should  the 
Empress  of  all  Lulia  touch  it. 

At  a  ball  at  the  Vacht  Club  there  were  handsome  women  in 
toilets  worthy  of  Worth.  But  how  awkward  and  ungraceful  com- 
pared to  the  light,  flowing  dress  of  the  Parsee  beauties  the  night 
before ! 

The  very  beautiful  "  Queen's  statue  "  here  is  of  life-size,  seated 
on  a  rich  throne,  and  surmounted  by  a  canopy  of  great  beauty  in 
Gothic  style,  the  whole  of  white  marble.  It  is  a  little  singular  the 
old  lady  empress  cannot  sit  or  stand  in  marble.  It  is  always  the 
young  queen.  Her  rich  maturity  appears  only  in  photos.  She 
was  a   young  lady  when  she  mounted  the  throne,  and  she  will  go 


.'(* 


i 


>'j 


I 


\  IE 


34<^ 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


down  as  a  young  lady  into  the  long  future  in  bronze  and  stone  as 
empress,  although  she  did  not  become  one  until  nearly  50  years 
after  she  was  anointed  queen.  After  ages  will  think  her  possessed 
of  perennial  youth.  • 

The  sweet  chimes  on  the  clock  tower  close  by  tell  me  the  first 
hour  of  morm'ng  has  come,  and  tell  me  this  is  the  15th  day 
of  February,  the  anniversary  of  the  most  important  event  of  the 
world  to  me.  Sixty-three  years  ago  I  came  into  this  breathing 
life.  To  the  young  this  seems  a  long  time,  yet  how  quickly  has  it 
sped  !  How  poor  and  meagre  its  results!  I  open  memory's  book 
and  sadly  turn  back  its  leaves  and  read  its  pages.  I  go  a  little 
farther  back  even  than  memory  can  carry  me,  and  read  a  page  all 
fresh  as  if  it  had  been  just  written  and  1  had  known  it  all  myself. 
It  was  fastened  in  mj' brain  by  a  mother's  words.  It  is  the  picture 
of  a  virgin  forest  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe.  In  the  centre  of 
the  forest  tract  is  a  small  opening,  a  Kentucky  canebrake  of  two 
or  three  acres.  On  one  edge  of  this  opening  is  an  Indian  mound 
a  few  feet  high,  vhen  and  by  whom  built  no  one  can  know.  A 
noble  tree  grew  upon  its  crown,  and  the  roots  of  a  far  older  one 
were  moldering  on  its  side.  Here  had  been  a  camping-ground  of 
red  men  dead  ages  ago.  I  see  a  field  being  cleared  by  belting  the 
trees  and  burning  their  dead  trunks.  A  one-roomed  log-house  is 
built  upon  the  lower  edge  of  the  brake.  There  I  was  unexpectedly 
born.  A  new-made  trough,  cut  for  the  coming  sugar  season,  was 
my  extemporized  cradle.  It  was  a  rough  house  for  two  young, 
refined,  and  educated  people.  Ikit  western  energy  and  new-born 
hope  filled  their  hearts. 

Pressed  upon  this  page  is  anotiier,  printed  ere  the  year  had 
taken  its  wintry  leaf.  The  young  father  lies  upon  his  dying 
couch.  His  weeping  wife  holds  before  him  their  baby  boy.  His 
blanching  lips  try  to  speak.  .She  bends  down  to  catch  his  dying 
words.     They  are  a  message  to  his  child. 

I  turn  over  a  leaf.  I  see  the  saddest  spot  of  all  seen  in  my  early 
years — the  graveyard  behind  my  grandfather's  orchard,  all  silent, 
deeply  shaded,  and  solitary.  This  picture  is  the  earliest  that  lives 
in  my  own  memory,  graven  into  the  very  heart's  core.  My 
mother  is  holding  me,  now  three  years  and  three  months  old,  by 
the  hand.  We  stand  over  a  grave.  Not  a  spear  of  gra.ss  nor  a 
weed  was  green  upon  it.  For  long  years  its  mould  was  kept  as 
fresh  as  if  it  were  newly  made.  Long  we  stood.  Tears  were 
running  down  her  pallid  cheek  ;  a  dove  was  cooing  mournfully  in 
a  tree  close  by ;  crickets  were  chirruping  in  the  warm  May  noon. 
They  seemed  to  make  the  very  silence  more  silent.  My  mother 
knelt  upon  the  edge  of  the  grave  and  prayed.  I  remember  but  one 
sentence  :  "  Thou  hast  promised  to  be  a  father  to  the  fatherless 
and  the  widow's  God."  VVhen  she  arose  her  eyes  were  dry  though 
her  cheek  was  still  wet.  She  pointed  to  the  silent  grave  and 
said  :     "  Your  father  lies  there,  my  child  ;  his  last  words  were  for 


I 


A  RICH  LEGACY. 


247 


you :  '  Tell  our  child  that  an  honest  man  is  the  noblest  work  of 
God.  Teach  him  not  to  tell  a  lie ' ;  and  then  he  died."  Oh, 
mother  in  heaven !  that  message  has  been  given  to  mc  a  thou- 
sand times — in  angel  whisperings,  upon  the  briny  deep,  upon 
the  mountain's  side,  in  the  turmoil  of  angry  strife,  in  the  silent 
watches  of  the  night,  in  the  lo\''ng  glances  of  your  own  dark, 
honest  eyes,  in  the  far-ofT  land  where  was  our  home  and  where  your 
ashes  lie.  My  father  left  me  lands,  but  those  dying  words  watered 
by  a  mother's  tears,  were  a  richer  legacy  than  all  the  lands.  They 
have  checked  erring  steps  a  thousand  times,  and  have  taught  me 
to  hold  that  "  there  is  no  religion  higher  than  truth." 


I     M 


r,l 


J!  ' 


If 


!■  ,' 
"-l* 


i  mv 


w 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


! 


W '  i 


Ilia 

m 


ACROSS    THE    DECCAN— KARLI    CAVES— BEAUTIFUL    WOMEN— HY. 

DERABAD— OLD  GOLCONDA— TITANIC   ROCKS— ELEl'lIANT 

RIDE— CHARMING  HOSPITALITY. 

Madras,  February  24,  1888. 

Old  Sol  was  blazing  down  as  if  the  very  air  was  a  great  sun- 
glass, focusing  ten  times  ten  thousand  burning  rays  upon  our  heads, 
when  wc  left  our  hotel  at  Bombay  to  commence  the  hot  journey 
across  the  Dcccan  for  Madras,  and  thence  by  rail  through  extreme 
southern  India  to  Tuticorin,  and  over  to  Colombo,  on  the  Cinna- 
mon isle.  We  felt  some  dread  of  this  trip.  Every  one  to  whom 
wc  had  mentioned  it  told  us  wc  would  suffer  at  this  late  period  of 
the  season,  and  that  .he  country  was  too  barren  of  interest  to 
repay  us  for  our  discomfort.  Few  tourists  make  the  journey,  and 
the  few  writers  who  have  written  of  it  seemed  so  anxious  to  get 
over  the  great  table-lands  that  their  descriptions  of  the  country 
have  been  meagre  and  uninstructive— all  the  greater  reason  for  our 
seeing  it. 

The  efifect  of  an  Indian  sun  on  a  white  man  is  simply  marvel- 
lous. It  seems  to  strike  the  very  roots  of  his  nerves.  A  native 
will  work  or  sit  for  hours  with  his  bare  head  beneath  the  scorching 
rays  and  feel  no  unpleasant  sensation.  But  if  the  sun  pours  down 
upon  a  white  man's  head  or  shoulders,  or  along  the  spine,  he  may 
escape  sunstroke,  but  will  feel  the  ill-effect  for  days.  The  atmos- 
phere seems  to  be  for  him  a  convex  lens  and  burns  the  heat  into 
a  focus.  This,  too,  is  the  case  all  over  the  land,  even  as  far  up  as 
in  the  Punjab,  throughout  Rajpootana,  in  Bengal,  and  down  in  the 
Deccan  ;  indeed,  it  is  said  that  the  direct  effect  of  the  sun  is  more 
powerful  in  the  north  than  in  the  south.  I  have  discussed  the 
matter  with  men  who  have  been  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe- 
commercial  men  and  English  officers,  and  all  assert  that  they  fear 
an  Indian  sun  more  than  that  of  any  other  q-irter  of  the  world. 
In  China  and  on  the  table-lands  of  central  Asia  the  sun  heat  is 
intense,  and  men  almost  melt  and  are  sunstruck.  Here  quick  sun- 
strokes are  not  usually  the  immediate  effect  of  over-exposure, 
though  they  occur ; — but  a  pain  in  the  back  of  the  head  and  about 
the  cervical  joints,  accompanied  by  depression  and  perhaps  illness, 
follows.  Every  railway  carriage  intended  for  Europeans  has  its 
bathroom,  and  a  tank  in  the  roof  always  full  of  cool  water,  and  on 

248 


SHORE  GHAUTS. 


249 


the  southern  roads  all  have  a  double  roof  with  an  air  chamber 
between  the  two.  We  wear  great  pith  sun-hats  and  carry  um- 
brellas as  regularly  as  did  the  "  Iron  Duke,"  and  when  forced  to 
go  out  in  the  sun  take  things  coolly.  We  drink  no  "pegs"  and 
are  abstemious  of  "  whisky  sodas."  We  are  not  afraid  of  the  sun, 
but  we  do  not  defy  him,  and  I  think  we  '11  go  out  of  India  with 
invigorated  health.  The  Europeans  here  take  too  many  "  pegs  " 
— i.  e.  glasses  of  whisky.  They  feel  depressed  and  take  a  peg. 
They  continue  depressed  and  take  another  and  another  till  the 
really  beneficial  cfTect  of  an  occasional  stimulant  is  lost. 

The  water,  as  a  rule,  throughout  India  is  bad.  It  is  taken  from 
rivers  or  from  great  tanks  (artificial  reservoirs),  which  catch  and 
hold  the  rains  ;  these  arc  frequently  of  many  acres  in  extent ;  and 
from  wells.  In  every  one  of  these  sources  of  supply  the  water  is 
more  or  less  contaminated.  The  natives  all  bathe  or  pour  water 
over  themselves  a  great  deal.  They  wash  themselves  and  their 
clothing  in  the  same  tank  from  which  they  drink,  and  their  cattle 
and  buffalo  wallow  with  the  people.  A  lot  of  tanks  four  to  six 
feet  deep,  and  containing  10  to  20  acres  altogether,  furnish  water 
for  a  city  of  many  thousands  of  people  through  long  months  of 
dry  weather.  The  air  teems  with  organic  life,  especially  during 
the  rainy  season,  when  the  tanks  are  being  filled  ;  the  water  thus 
becomes  populous  with  organisms.  Throughout  the  country 
generally  many  Europeans  boil  or  filter  the  water,  and  some  do 
both.  The  natives  do  neither,  and  are  yet  a  healthy  people,  for 
they  have  no  fear  of  their  water.  Faith  is  a  mighty  doctor ; 
alarm  breeds  disease. 

After  leaving  the  islands  of  Bombay  and  Salsette,  our  railroad 
ran  for  a  short  distance  toward  the  Satpoora  Mountains,  which 
extend  up  to  Rajpootana,  and  is  the  water-shed  between  it  and 
central  India.  It  then  bent  southward  into  the  low  spurs  of  the 
Bhore  Ghauts.  This  is  a  range  of  several  distinctive  names, 
but  bearing  the  general  appellation  of  the  Western  Ghauts, 
running  close  to  the  Arabian  Sea  all  the  way  to  Cape  Cormorin. 
Ghaut  is  the  Indian  word  for  step.  These  mountains  are  the 
steps  by  which  one  climbs  from  the  low  coast  up  to  the  great  table- 
land which  stretches  to  the  Eastern  Ghauts,  close  to  the  Bay  of 
Bengal.  We  are  soon  in  narrow  valleys,  between  rocky  hills  lift- 
ing 1,000  feet  up,  and  having  a  rather  sterile  appearance,  clothed 
with  scattered  thorny  trees.  After  running  60  miles  we  com- 
menced the  ascent  of  the  Ghauts,  pulled  by  one  and  pushed  by 
another  powerful  engine,  up  grades  of  a  foot  in  30.  In  some  16 
miles  we  climbed  2,000  feet  through  grand  scenery,  lofty  ridges 
lifted  on  each  side,  or  on  one,  leaving  beautiful  broad  valleys 
with  fields  and  \  ".ages  on  the  other.  The  mountains  are  all  vol- 
canic, showing  great  precipices  of  black  hard  tufa,  or  trap,  hun- 
dreds of  feet  high,  and  piled  one  above  the  other.  Between  these 
precipices,  of  which  there  are  four  or  five  tiers,  each  a  hundred 


m 


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250 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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feet  behind  the  one  next  below,  are  steep  slopes  clothed  in  dense 
woodland  of  emerald  green. 

The  whole  had  the  appearance  of  forest  terraces  supported  by 
black  walls  of  great  height  stretching  one  or  two  miles  or  more  in 
length,  and  crowned  above  by  embattled  walls.  Now  we  would 
look  below  into  a  dark  gorge,  here  500,  then  1. 000,  and  once  1,200 
to  1,500  feet  deep,  lying  between  us  and  the  dark  embattled  walls 
and  precipices  a  short  distance  away ;  then  a  tunnel  or  a  curve 
would  open  to  us  a  smiling  valley,  running  off  for  miles,  yellow 
with  ripe,  or  green  with  growing,  crops.  Few  places  present  more 
awful  and  yet  sweetly  beautiful  scenery.  At  Khamballa,  78  miles 
from  Bombay,  we  stopped  for  the  night  and  spent  an  hour 
of  declining  day  in  enjoyment  of  the  charming  surroundings, 
seated  upon  the  verge  of  a  mighty  precipice,  and  with  heights 
cutting  the  clear  blue  sky  above  us;  tl.j  deep  gorge  lying,  as  it 
grew  more  sombre  in  the  ap[)roach  of  night,  like  a  monster  reptile 
1,200  or  1,500  feet  below  us;  our  cheeks  were  fanned  by  a  deli- 
cious breeze  from  the  sea  not  many  miles  away.  There  was 
nothing  to  mar  our  enjoyment.  The  valley  gorge  was  wild  and 
savage.  In  its  woods  and  among  its  titanic  rocks  was  the  lair  of 
the  tiger,  from  which  the  stealthy  brute  creeps  out  at  night  in 
quest  of  native  food,  and  lacks  not  so  much  love  for  the  European 
that  he  will  eschew  him  as  meat.  Kites  and  eagles  arc  sailing 
about  the  rocks  above  us.  In  the  distance,  far  down  the  gorge, 
a  railway  train  was  creeping  up  with  what  seemed  snail-like  pace. 
Its  whistle  mii.gled  with  the  eagle's  scream  ;  crows,  the  intimate 
if  not  the  friend  of  man  hereabouts,  were  cawing  near  by ;  some 
sheep,  all  black  as  crows,  were  being  driven  homeward  by  their 
shepherd.  We  sat  and  drank  in  the  scene  till  one  of  us  noticed 
a  worn  little  hole  under  a  rock  near  our  feet ;  a  cobra  may  have 
made  it  his  path.  We  left  the  beautiful  scene.  We  were  amused 
by  a  shepherd  holding  a  ewe  while  he  made  the  Lmb  of  another 
draw  borrowed  nourishment.  A  nanny-goat  kicked  angrily  when 
finding  a  kid  in  sheep's  clothing  stealing  her  own  darling's  supper. 

The  next  morning  early  we  drove  to  the  Karli  caves,  six  miles 
away.  These  are  quite  different  from  those  at  Elephanta,  and 
are  in  much  better  preservation.  In  the  hard  trap-rock  a  temple 
150  feet  deep,  30  to  50  wide,  and  more  than  half  as  high,  was  cut 
long  ages  ago.  Its  roof  is  arched,  and  is  more  like  the  nave  of  a 
Christian  church  than  a  Hindoo  temple.  On  either  side  is  a  long 
row  of  columns,  a  part  of  the  original  rock,  with  capitals  orna- 
mented with  images  in  the  fixed  stone  of  the  gods  and  their 
wives,  for  each  has  three,  and  in  front  are  great  elephants  carved 
from  the  rock.  In  the  hill-sides  to  the  right  and  left  are  many 
cave  chambers,  the  homes  of  the  priesthood  of  the  past.  To 
reach  the  caves  we  had  to  cross  afoot  over  a  plain  of  rough 
ground,  with  tufa  rr...3ses  protruding  and  covered  with  little  peb- 
ble." of  coarse  cornelian,  jasper,  and  agate.     It  was  from  spots 


lit' 


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o 

z 


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L. 

o 

UJ 

-t 

a. 
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0. 

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I 


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il 


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ff 


4 


HINDOO  BEAUTY. 


251 


like  these  the  stones  came  which  made  the  inlaid  beauties  of  the 
tombs  and  palaces  of  the  moguls.  We  picked  up  some  quite 
pretty  enough  for  seal  rings. 

After  tififin  (lunch)  we  were  again  speeding  toward  the  south- 
east through  plains,  brown  generally,  but  now  and  then  green 
with  wheat-fields.  The  most  of  the  fields,  however,  were  ripe, 
and  some  already  harvested.  The  grain  was  light,  and,  with  us, 
would  scarcely  repay  the  reaper.  Low  ridges  of  bare  mountains 
were  always  in  view,  but  not  enough  to  take  away  the  general 
characteristics  of  plane  land.  Large  flocks  of  black  sheep  and 
goats  were  constantly  in  sight,  but  few  flocks  could  boast  a  white 
one.  Cattle  were  abundant.  In  two  hours  we  reached  Poonah, 
the  old  capital  of  the  Mahrattas,  and  still  the  principal  English 
station  of  that  quarter  of  the  country.  It  is  a  fine  town,  and 
gave  to  us  a  revelation.  We  had  not  often  enjoyed  seeing  ex- 
quisite female  Hindoo  beauty.  Some  ladies  were  having  a  pic- 
nic in  the  public  garden.  Their  bourkas,  or  light  shawls,  were 
thrown  ofT,  showing  their  faces  in  full.  I  think  they  fully  appre- 
ciated our  admiration,  for  they  did  not  cover  when  we  sat  on  a 
bench  close  by  to  read  our  guide-book,  but  rather  turned  towards 
us,  cither  to  show  us  their  jewels  or  their  faces.  It  is  not  often 
one  sees  uncovered  Hindoo  ladies.  These  were  evidently  of  opu- 
lent houses.  Never  had  I  seen  a  purer  type  of  face  or  more 
aristocratic  features.  All  were  pretty,  three  very  beautiful,  and 
one  of  a  perfection  of  style  which  began  to  make  me  unhappy. 
A  wonderfully  beautiful  woman  always  makes  me  feel  thus.  I  do 
not  know  why.  I  see  a  beautiful  horse  :  I  do  not  wisl  to  ride  or 
drive  it.  I  see  a  splendid  house :  I  do  not  wish  to  possess  it  or 
live  in  it.  I  see  sparkling  gems :  I  never  wish  to  wear  them.  I 
do  sincerely  enjoy  a  prosperous  man's  happiness.  I  do  not  envy 
a  man  his  beautiful  wife.  But  I  cannot  realize  that  any  man  is 
good  enough  to  be  the  possessor  of  a  perfectly  beautiful  woman. 
She  is  something  which  instinctively  I  feel  should  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  any  man,  and  yet  she  is  not ;  very  probably  she  is  not 
beyond  the  reach  of  a  very  poor  stick  of  a  man.  She  may  be 
beautiful,  but  is  always  fool  enough  to  give  herself  to  a  miserable 
piece  of  masculine  clay  ;  whereas  she  is  something  to  me  so  per- 
fect that  she  should  be  enshrined  in  her  own  individuality.  I  do 
not  want  her,  but  I  do  not  want  any  one  else  to  have  her.  Thus 
I  was  beginning  to  feel  when  looking  on  this  piece  of  dusky  per- 
fection. There  was  growing  about  my  heartstrings  a  sort  of 
contraction — a  sort  of  paralysis.  One  of  the  little  girls  of  the 
party  ran  off  a  little  distance.  My  beauty  called  to  her.  She  did 
not  at  once  obey.  The  call  became  an  angry  screech.  Presto ! 
The  spell  was  broken.  Thank  heaven  !  There  was  always  some- 
thing to  break  such  spells.  What  beautiful  things  would  many 
women  be  if  they  would  only  be  silent !  The  canary's  throat  is 
never  given  to  the  bird  of  paradise.     One  should  generally  stuff 


m 


s  „ 


252 


//  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


one's  ears  when  one  looks  upon  this  kind  of  perfection,  and  should 
listen  blindfolded  to  a  divine  singer. 

We  lost  200  miles  of  country  passing  it  at  night.  Indian  rail- 
roads always  do  most  of  their  train-running  at  night.  They  thus 
avoid  the  burning  heat  of  day.  But  the  night  was  clear,  and  till 
late  the  moon  enabled  us  to  comprehend  the  country  we  were 
traversing.  The  ne.xt  morning  showed  us  great  stretches  of  doura 
fields.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  this  seemed  the  prevailing 
winter  crop.  Hundreds  of  thousands  of  acres.  The  surface  of 
the  land  was  slightly  undulating.  The  doura — a  kind  of  millet — 
was  from  four  to  eight  feet  high  The  fields  looked  as  our  prairies 
of  Indian  corn  would  if  cut  off  just  above  the  cars,  except  there 
was  not  quite  the  stiffness.  Imagine  thousar.ds  of  acres  of  corn 
with  rather  smal.  ears  stuck  where  the  tassels  grow.  The  heads 
are  too  compact  to  resemble  broom  corn  or  sorghum.  '.11  fields 
where  the  growth  was  short  there  was,  every  three  or  more  rows, 
a  row  of  saffron  or  of  dahl.  The  Indian  farmer  delights  to  have 
two  kinds  of  crops  growing  together.  Me  is  so  poor  that  a  failure 
would  bring  starvation.  He  plants  two  things  on  the  same  field  ; 
if  one  fails  he  may  save  the  other.  Fields  of  saffron  just  being 
harvested  looked  like  plains  of  old  gokl. 

At  Wadi,  and  for  some  miles  before,  we  were  in  the  dominions 
of  the  Nizam  of  I  fyderabad  ;  I  thought  the  evidences  of  pros- 
perity were  greater  than  in  the  English  governed  states^  The 
Nizam  is  one  of  the  many  princes  who  yet  govern  one  third  of 
India.  His  dominions  comprise  80,000  sejuare  miles,  wit'a  a  popu- 
lation of  12,000,000  or  13,000,000.  He  owns  the  railroads  and 
runs  things  a.s  he  pleases,  provided  always  he  pleases  the  Eng- 
lish government  at  the  same  time.  The  crops  in  his  state  were 
much  better  tlian  those  beyond  the  lines.  The  houses  were  no 
longer  of  mud,  but  of  stone — this,  however,  because  it  is  cheaper. 
There  is  a  wonderful  building  stone  along  the  railroad  in  laj'ers 
so  smooth  that  it  has  not  to  be  hammered  to  make  first-class 
ashler  work.  The  houses,  or  huts,  are  built  of  this  laid  loose,  and 
often  covered  with  thin  fiags.  VVe  saw  many  picturesque-looking 
villages,  many  walled  in,  and  all  with  round  towers  40  or  50  feet 
in  diameter,  and  two  to  three  stories  in  height.  These  were  once 
necessary  when  wars  among  neighboring  states  were  so  frequent  ; 
now  useless,  for  England  surrounds  the  land  and  there  can  be  no 
more  such  wars. 

Before  reaching  the  capital,  which  is  reached  by  a  road  at  right 
angles  to  the  main  road  to  Madras,  we  passed  through  some  wild 
jungle,  a  part  of  it  in  low  forest,  where  tigers  and  panthers 
abound.  The  country  became  broken  into  low  granite  hills.  The 
soil  being  disintegrated  granite  or  of  syenite,  generally  gray  but 
occasionally  red,  about  Hyderabad ;  the  granite  hills  have  been 
worn  down  through  past  ages,  leaving  huge  masses  100  feet  high, 
smooth  and  blackened  by  time,  great  heaps  of  rock  piled  one  upon 


% 


NATIVE  HOSPITALITY. 


253 


another  in  monster  lieaps.  Huye  rocks  weighing  from  10  to  100 
tons  were  heaped  upon  eacli  other,  often  so  loosely  that  they 
looked  as  if  a  child  could  make  them  tumble  over.  Heic  the\' 
looked  like  castles  and  embattled  walls  of  loose  stone  ;  there  they 
were  thrown  in  wild  confusion.  Sometimes  a  stone  three  or  four 
times  as  large  as  a  railroad  carriage  would  be  poised  high  up  upon 
a  slender  base.  Some  of  the  hills  composed  of  such  stones  were 
300  or  more  feet  high.  When  the  Creator  finished  building  the 
world  he  dropped  the  debris  here.  These  hills  form  a  cordon 
about  the  city,  which  has  a  population  of  Apofxo. 

We  went  to  the  travellers'  bungalow,  where  we  could  get  but  one 
room  and  one  bed,  the  others  being  full.  Two  of  us  had  to  sleep 
upon  the  hard  stone  floor.  We  went  at  once  to  the  Ikitish  Resi- 
dent for  a  permit  to  visit  the  fort  at  the  old  ruins  of  Golconda. 
He  was  out  of  town,  so  was  his  deputy.  The  assistant  deputy 
was  not  at  home.  By  the  way,  here,  as  at  Jeyporc,  the  Resident 
lives  in  a  very  palace.  I  determined  to  go  directly  to  the  Ni- 
zam's (king's)  palace,  and  try  the  strength  of  my  American  citi- 
zenship. VVe  drove  up,  with  no  other  guide  than  our  coachman, 
who  spoke  a  dozen  or  so  words  of  English.  Our  very  inability 
to  communicate  with  the  guartls  enabled  our  cards  and  Mr.  Bay- 
ard's letter  to  get  through  the  palace  gates.  They  did  not  know 
how  to  tell  us  to  go  away  in  English,  and  we  would  not  under- 
stand their  assertions  in  Hiiuioostanee  that  wc  could  not  get  in. 
We  found  ourselves  before  a  sort  of  open  portico,  the  office  of 
some  dignitary,  inside  the  outer  wall  but  just  outside  the  inner 
palace  gate.  Our  cards  went  in.  Presently  an  elegant  ofificial 
came  from  the  palace  gate,  surrounded  by  subalterns  and  soldiers  ; 
as  he  passed  he  looked  at  me  inquiringly.  I  said  :  "  ^'ou  speak 
ICnglish?"  He  said  he  did,  and  asked  us  to  enter,  and  after  get- 
ting through  some  pressing  business  turned  to  me.  We  got  into 
conversation,  and  took  tea.  The  result  was  not  only  did  we  get 
a  permit  for  Golconda,  but  a  captain  was  ordered  to  accompany 
us  on  horseback  to  the  Char-Mahal,  the  palace  of  the  "  four 
houses,"  and  to  show  us  through.  And,  furthermore,  we  were 
most  cordially  invited  to  be  his  guests  during  our  stay  in  Hydera- 
bad. On  my  hesitating,  Mirza  Mohammed  Afsu.  Jung  said: 
"  You  are  not  comfortable  at  the  bungalow,  and  I  mean  it  when 
I  say  I  really  wish  you  to  be  my  guests.  It  will  be  as  agreeable 
to  me  as  it  will  be  comfortable  to  you."  The  invitation  so  gra- 
ciously given  w^as  accepted. 

Accompanied  by  Capt.  Abdular  mounted  on  a  superb  Arab, 
we  went  to  the  beautiful  palace  of  the  "  four  houses,"  and  were 
shown  the  splendid  rooms,  the  state  carriages  and  stables,  with 
some  superb  horses.  We  then  drove  to  old  Golconda,  six  miles 
off.  This  was  once  a  great  city  and  the  capital  of  the  Deccan. 
Its  name  has  been  the  synonym  for  boundless  treasures  of  gold, 
and  diamonds  in  countless  numbers.     It  is  the  land  where  Arabian 


N     I' 


m 


\\\ 


(ill 


254 


./  RACE  WITH    THE  SUN. 


• 


hh'l 


I  .11 


l.y^ 


fancy  revelled  in  i^orffcoiis  iiTiaf:finin}j[s,  and  the  scene  where  a  part 
of  the  "Thousand  and  One  Nights"  was  laid.  It  was  from  the 
crests  of  these  huge  mountains  of  granite  boulders  that  Sindbad 
the  Sailor  looked  down  into  the  valley  whose  floor  was  a  mass  of 
shining  diamonds,  and  from  which  he  was  borne  away  on  the 
wing  of  the  monster  roc.  The  jungle  around  has  been  for  count- 
less ages  the  home  of  monster  tigers.  Cities  have  been  for  tliou- 
sands  of  years  nestled  among  these  savage  scenes,  and  their  mon- 
archs  have  been  possessed  of  diamonds  beyoml  count.  Here  the 
Koh-i-noor  was  found.  The  tale  of  "  Sindbad,"  I  suspect,  was  an 
allegory,  "the  Valley  of  Jewels"  meaning  a  city  into  whicii  for- 
eigners were  not  permitted  to  enter.  Sindbad  got  in.  and  having 
accpiired  some  wealth,  was  spirited  away  to  a  distant  ([uarter. 

The  old  fort  at  Golconda  was  once  an  impregnable  fortress 
built  upon  and  on  the  sides  of  a  hill  400  feet  high,  the  '\reat  stones 
heapetl  up  by  nature  being  tlie  strongest  i)arts  of  it-  alls.  The 
sun  was  bia/ing  liown  when  we  climbetl  it,  but  tin  oeze  on  its 
top,  under  the  shade  of  an  ancient  pleasure-iiouse,  \  s  delicious. 
The  scene  around  was  unique.  The  great  hills  of  mighty  loose 
stones  piled  about,  some  crowned  by  fortresses  and  palaces,  and 
others  desolate  and  bleak.  The  dusty  plains  stretched  around, 
with  some  dozen  or  more  tanks  shining  in  the  noondaj-  sun,  and 
the  yt)ung  rice-fields  in  the  low  places  below  the  tanks  as  green 
as  emeralds;  tlie  mosques  and  minarets  of  the  capital  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  the  I-jiglish  cantonment  of  Secunderabad  embo"  ered 
in  trees  ;  tlie  old  walls  in  strong  battlements  climijii.g  from  the 
plain  below  to  the  heights  we  were  sitting  upon  ;  and  the  stately 
tombs  of  tin;  kings  whose  line  had  been  extinct  for  a  couple  of 
centuries,  but  still  kept  in  good  repair,  and  surrounded  with  gar- 
dens of  mango  and  palms,  just  outside  of  the  old  city  walls;  and 
around  all  the  titanic  walls  of  monster  rocks  piled  into  low  moun- 
tains. These  made  a  picture  nowhere  else  seen  in  India,  and  no- 
where else  surpassed  in  weird  and  romantic  effect. 

We  got  back  to  the  capital  in  time  for  tiffin  at  2:30.  We  were 
just  getting  through  with  it,  when  an  elegant  drag  with  outriders, 
drove  up  to  take  us  to  the  residence  of  a  Mirza  Mohammed,  Ali 
Beg  Hadupur,  Afsur-Jung,  aid  to  his  highness  the  nizam  of  Hy- 
derabad. We  were  received  by  the  nawab  with  great  courtesy 
in  one  of  the  prettiest  of  drawing-rooms ;  nothing  flashy  or 
tawdry,  but  every  thing  in  exquisite  taste — a  mingling  of  Orien- 
talism and  Western  elegance.  Our  rooms  were  comfortable,  with 
desks  covered  with  bric-a-brac  and  provided  with  stationery  anil 
some  books.  ]?efore  we  had  washed,  iced  whiskey  and  soda  was 
brought  to  us,  and  shortly  after  we  were  mounted  in  a  fine  drag 
drawn  by  four  elegant  horses  driven  by  the  nawab  himself,  who  is 
a  fine  whip,  along  the  pretty  road  which  skirts  the  great  tank  or 
artificial  lake.  Our  dinner  was  finely  served  with  wine  and  several 
delicious  Persian  dishes,  the  nawab  and  a  couple  of  his  friends  in- 


^uV  F.l.r.rJlANI'  RIJ->E. 


255 


vitcd  to  dine  with  us  not  taking  wine,  for  \vc  were  in  a  Moliain- 
medan  city,  and  our  host  was  a  follower  of  Ishirn.  The  people  of 
this  kinf;doni  speak  four  native  lan^^uages,  but  the  language  of  the 
court  is  Persian  and    Persian    style    is   the    form. 


The 
were 


Persian 
simply 


sweetmeats  served    at     this    and  successive    meals 
perfect. 

The  next  day  we  had  several  nawabs  (noblemen)  to  breakfast 
with  us,  all  polisheil  gentlemen.  One  had  been  of  the  suite  sent 
to  the  queen's  jubilee  last  year.  At  four  in  the  afternoon  we 
were  driven  to  the  palace  and  presented  to  the  nizam's  private 
secretary,  Col.  Marshall.  Queer,  is  it  not,  that  the  confidential 
secretary  of  this  independent  prince  shou'd  belong  to  the  English 
army?  We  would  jirobably  liave  been  ,)resented  to  the  Nizam 
himself  but  for  the  fact  that  he  had  just  lost  one  of  his  children 
and  is  "  ///  zcitaita  "--/.  <•.,  locketl  up  in  the  women's  tpiaiter  for  a 
moon.     This  is  a  part  of  the  religious  custom  of  Isiamism. 

Then  we  were  mounted  upon  a  huge  elephant  and  riilden 
through  the  city.  I'rom  the  vantage-ground  of  his  lofty  back  we 
had  a  splendid  panor.ima  of  the  great  crowds  of  people  of  several 
nationalities  on  the  streets  and  in  their  many  brilliant  costumes. 
Our  huge  beast  picked  his  way  quietly  among  the  pedestrians, 
now  and  then  blowing  aloud  whistle — for  what  reason  I  could  not 
divine,  unless  it  was  simply  because  he  could.  There  were  two 
wedding  processions  on  the  streets  we  traversed — one  of  a  nawab, 
with  at  least  lOO  mounted  soldiers.  I  was  much  surprised  that  the 
horses  of  some  of  these  took  fright  at  our  leviathan,  and  cavorted 
at  a  fearful  rate.  His  elephantship  jiaid  no  attention  whatevcrto 
them  and  never  for  a  moment  paused  although  the  horses  were 
tumbling  about  the  narrow  street.  The  city  is  a  pretty  one  and  has 
many  fine  residences  and  (piite  nice-looking  private  houses.  From 
our  elevated  position  we  could  look  into  their  second  stories. 
Within  there  was  nothing  that  looked  inviting  and  the  window- 
sills  were  dirty  and  squalid.  After  being  shown  the  private 
armory  of  the  nizam — his  splendid  collection  of  tiger,  elephant, 
and  small-game  guns, — we  parted  with  our  charming  host.  He 
W'.s  on  duty  for  the  night.  He  sent  a  gentleman  home  with  us  to 
entertain  us  at  dinner  and  to  see  us  off  tliai  evening. 

Afsur  Jung,  our  host,  is  said  to  be  the  most  powerful  noble 
of  the  land.  He  is  the  favorite  friend  of  the  nizam  and  his 
companion  in  his  sports  and  in  his  hunts.  He  is  the  real  com- 
mander of  the  army,  though  nominally  only  at  the  head  of  the 
regiment  of  Lhe  body-guard  ;  is  said  to  be  a  fine  shot — his  parIo»- 
floor  is  covered  with  the  tiger-skins  of  his  own  shooting.  One  of 
his  exploits  in  that  line  is  much  spoken  of  as  being  an  act  of 
wonderful  daring.  He  is  a  fine  horseman,  skilled  polo-player,  and 
speaks  several  languages  fluently,  rnd  withal  is  a  man  of  courtly 
manners.  It  was  a  singular  thing  ;o  go  about  his  beautiful  house, 
furnished  with  such  pure  taste,  and  to  see  such  evidences  of  a 


»•./, 


.  rj 


-  if 


256 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


I   f  '  ^ 


high  r-'finement,  then  to  dine  at  his  table  both  when  he  was  there 
and  when  ho  was  away,  knowing  that  his  wife — he  has  but  one — was 
separated  from  us  only  by  a  wall,  and  not  only  never  seeing  her, 
but  even  learning  that  she  probably  has  been  into  the  front  part 
of  the  residence  but  a  few  times.  Her  taste  had  nothing  to  do 
with  its  embellishment,  but  his  alone,  and  she  never  enjoys  its 
pleasures.  Afsur  Jung  has  about  him  a  retinue  of  servants,  not 
one  of  whom  has  ever  seen  his  wife's  unveiled  face.  He  is  himself 
very  liberal  and  I  doubt  not  would  be  glad  to  be  freed  from  such 
restraints,  but  they  are  a  part  of  his  religion  as  well  as  a  part  of 
the  customs  of  his  country.  When  we  parted  I  think  he  really 
regretted  our  leaving  so  soon.  He  invited  us  to  come  back  in  the 
tiger-shooting  season,  when  he  would  give  us  the  best  guns  and 
the  best  elephants  in  the  dominions. 

From  Hyderabad  more  than  half  of  the  journey  onward  we 
made  by  daylight,  The  same  characteristics  were  seen  which  be- 
longed to  the  country  traversed  in  reaching  Wadi,  except  that 
there  w;.^  a  large  growth  of  cotton.  The  plant  was  very  low, 
frequently  rot  reaching  six  iiiches.  The  farm  people  became  yet 
blacker,  the  majority  being  almost  as  dark  as  negroes.  They  are 
a  mucli  finer  race  than  those  of  either  Bengal  or  the  neighborhood 
of  ]?ombay.  Their  features  are  finely  cut,  delicate  and  oftentimes 
very  handsome.  Many  are  quite  tall  and  better  proportioned  in 
the  lower  limbs  than  in  northern  India.  Many  a  man  nearly  as 
black  as  a  crow  is  seen  whose  features  would  compare  favorably 
with  the  best-visaged  European,  and  women  are  often  very 
l)retty.  If  our  beauties  could  only  see  their  feet  they  would  envy 
them.  When  shoes  were  introduced  one  of  the  handsomest  parts 
of  the  human  frame  became  deformed.  The  nizam's  people  are 
entirely  wanting  in  the  servile  demeanor  of  the  Ucngalese.  We 
crossed  several  rivers  broad  and  capable  of  carrying  vast  streams, 
but  now  only  with  small  ones  coursing  along  their  rocky  beds.  All 
the  streams  south  of  Bombay  rise  in  .the  (ihauts  close  to  the  west 
coast  and  flow  eastward  into  the  Bay  of  Bengal.  The  granite  hills 
seen  about  Hyderabad  extend  far  south  and  cross  the  railroad  at 
greater  altitudes.  They  make  the  trip  decidedly  picturesque.  A 
hundred  and  odd  miles  from  Madras  we  passed  through  fine  bare 
mountain  scenery,  and  saw  some  old  fortified  cities  and  fortresses 
perched  high  upon  lofty  hills,  as  bold  and  picturesque  as  any 
thing  on  the  Rhine  or  Danube. 

Arriving  at  Madrr>-  we  found  every  hotel  filled.  We  even 
tried  several  whose  filthy  appearance  repelled  us — dirty  dens 
kept  by  Portuguese  who  are  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  cleanliness 
is  next  to  godliness.  A  native  had  fastened  himself  upon  us  at 
the  station,  determined  to  be  our  guide  and  servant.  When  we 
were  about  to  return  to  the  station  to  go  off  on  the  next  train, 
he  said  he  thought  he  could  get  us  a  room  at  the  "  Bidden 
Home  "  on  the  beach.     This  turned  out  to  be  a  charitable  home 


NATIVE  CHRISTIANITY. 


m 


for  seamen,  now  rarely  used  since  the  commerce  by  sea  of  the 
place  has  so  fallen  off.  Few  sailing  vessels  touch  here.  The 
harbor  is  open,  and  permits  no  sail  craft  to  lie  safely  before  the 
citv.  and  tiie  steamers  stay  so  short  a  time  that  a  sailors'  home  is 
hardly  needed.  Thinking  our  stay  under  the  circumstances 
would  be  vcr\  short,  we  at  once  ordered  a  carriage  and  drove  about 
the  (it}'.  We  found  it  as  hot  as  we  had  been  told  it  would  be.  Its 
public  buildings  are  quite  fine,  and  Fort  George  is  a  grand  military 
establishment.  The  esplanade  and  military  grounds  for  drilling 
are  laigc,  with  handsome  shaded  drives  crossing  them  in  different 
directions.  An  outer  harbor  now  being  erected  may,  when 
finished,  bring  back  to  Madras  some  of  her  lost  coinmerce. 

Hot  and  dusty  we  returned  to  our  refuge,  and,  to  our  delight, 
found  we  had  won  victory  from  defeat.  A  delightful  breeze,  a 
sort  t)f  undertow,  was  coming  in  from  the  sea,  so  invigorating 
that  we  determined  to  stop  here  for  a  rest,  instead  of  going  to 
the  Nilglierri  hills,  where  w  had  expected  to  spend  two  or  three 
days.  Muni  Sami,  tl'.e  butler  of  the  establishment,  gets  us 
dcligluful  meals,  and  is  making  our  stay  really  charming.  1  asked 
him  if  he  were  a  Christian.  There  are  a  great  many  native  Chris- 
tians in  this  locality.  He  said  no;  "that  Christians  got  drunk  too 
much  ;  that  it  was  the  best  religion  to  die  in,  but  it  was  better  to 
be  ;.  heathen  until  one  got  old  ;  he  intended  turning  Christian 
before  he  died."  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  our  limited  experience, 
so  far,  corroborates  this  statement.  At  Lahore  and  Jey])nre  we 
had  native  Christians  for  guides,  and  bidli  Look  more  stimulants 
than  was  healthy.  The  fellow  who  attached  himself  to  us  here 
uas  not  able  to  bear  prosperity.  Our  pay  overcame  him,  and 
yesterila)'  I  discharged  him  for  being  drunk.  We  have  now  been 
here  three  liays,  and  find  the  early  mornings  and  cool  afternoons 
picifitably  employed  driving  through  the  large  city,  which  has  a 
[.opulation  of  350,000.  But  it  is  only  at  the  15idden  Home  that 
we  find  the  freshness  of  the  undertow  sea-breez  ,  I  suppose,  be- 
cause of  its  immediate  pro.ximit)'  to  the  surf,  which  breaks  not 
100  feet  from  my  bedroom.  We  spend  all  the  heat  of  the  day 
l_\'ini;  in  easy  chairs  in  our  colonnaded  second  story,  drinking  in 
enjojnient  and  sea  air.  We  have  been  much  on  the  sea  during 
the  past  seven  months,  but  we  were  then  the  sport  of  the  waves. 
Here  we  have  sea-baths,  and  watch  the  snowy  surf  without  any 
of  the  discomforts  of  too  great  intimacy  with  the  monster  ocean. 
We  would  like  to  enjoy  the  glorious  surf,  but  dare  not,  for 
ground-sharks  abound  here,  and  are  fond  of  Europeans.  Two 
Fnglish  sokliers  went  into  the  surf  not  long  since;  they  were 
attacked,  and  although  assistance  was  closo  at  hand,  \et  the  poor 
lellows  were  never  seen  again.  Tiie  deeply-dyed  sea  told  how 
sharp  were  the  fishes'  teeth.  I  shall  always  remember  the  Bid- 
den Home  with  pleasure,  and  bless  its  charitable  founder.  We 
arrived  on  the  22d.     We  spent  the  afternoon  watching  the  surf 


ill'    i . 


Mi" 


..^  :v, 


I: 


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m 


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^ 


I: 


!  S    . 


,    -1 


258 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


breaking  almost  under  our  feet.  Natives  were  fishing  a  little 
way  out  on  tiny  catamarans,  which  arc  simply  a  couple  of 
sticks  of  timber  from  15  to  30  feet  long,  turned  up  at  one  end 
like  sled-runners,  and  lashed  together  with  thongs.  It  furnishes 
a  keel  two  or  three  feet  wide;  on  this  a  couple  of  fishermen  will 
boldly  enter  the  surf  which  no  other  boat  would  attempt.  Stand- 
ing erect  upon  the  tiny  craft,  with  a  light  paddle,  they  will  ride 
over  or  through  a  crest  which  looks  as  if  it  would  surely  swallow 
them  up.  They  pass  over  it  like  a  duck  or  through  it  as  a  fish, 
their  black  bodies  shining  in  the  sun  and  resembling  animate 
polished  ebony.  The  breeze  was  not  fresh  enough  to  raise  any 
white  caps,  but  a  fine  ground-swell  was  coming  in  from  two  to 
five  or  six  feet  high.  In  solemn  order  the  waves  would  round 
up  and  break  below  us,  making  now  a  gentle  murmur  and  then  a 
decp-toncd  thud.  After  a  loud  crash  the  aiolia  of  the  sea  would 
roll  awav,  dying  in  a  wail  or  sinking  into  a  sigh  ;  now  in  the  wild 
shriek  of  a  madman,  and  then  in  a  murmer  as  soft  as  a  mother's 
blessing. 

Washington's  birthday  I  watched  the  waves  marching  in  order 
one  after  the  other,  the  free  soldiers  of  the  sea,  and  tluDught  of 
the  day  and  of  the  man  of  whose  birth  it  was  the  anniversary.  He 
was  born  and  lived  that  a  mighty  people  might  be  free.  I  was 
now  in  a  land  whose  civilization  dates  from  thousands  of  years 
ago,  and  yet  there  is  no  tradition  that  freedom  here  for  one  day 
even  has  ever  had  a  home.  There  is  no  tradition  that  any  man 
living  among  the  countless  millions  of  this  land  ever  knew  wiiat 
freedom  was.  There  has  always  been  the  master  and  the  minion. 
The  master  might  be  one  man,  or  he  might  be  many,  liut  the 
mighty  mass  has  been  a  mass  of  willing  slaves.  Tliere  have  been 
fierce  wars  to  free  one  nation  from  another  nation,  or  a  prince 
from  another  prince,  but  not  a  single  struggle  to  free  man. 
Wasiungton's  name  is  a  very  synonym  for  freedom.  Will  the 
people  whom  he  fought  for  .dways  be  firm  to  the  principles  he 
taught,  or  will  madness  of  party  some  day  cause  them  to  for- 
get his  lessons,  and  make  them  bow  to  a  people's  idol,  and  all 
too  readily  permit  his  foot  to  rest  upon  their  necks?  Such  seems 
ever  to  have  been  the  tendency  of  human  movements,  and 
sooner  or  later  America  will  do  as  other  peoj^les  have  done  be- 
fore. No  statesmanship  can  ward  ofT  the  action  of  human  law. 
Among  the  countless  billions  who  have  lived  there  has  been  but 
one  Washington.  He  alonj  of  all  could  resist  that  sweetest  of 
all  incense,  the  breath  of  real  admiration,  and  could  forego  that 
sweetest  of  all  morsels,  power,  freely  granted  by  a  free  people. 
Kings  have  stepped  down  from  thrones,  but  their  thrones  were 
not  built  upon  freemen's  hearts.  Countless  ages  may  pass  before 
another  Washington  shall  be  born.  The  American  statesman 
should  study  to  retard  as  long  as  possible  the  coming  of  the  day 
when  a  Washington  shall  again  be  necessary  to  freedom. 


THE  TWENTY-SECOND  OF  FEBRUARY. 


259 


Recliniiifj  upon  an  easy  chair  in  the  mid-afternoon  beneath  the 
corridor  of  the  "  Home"  I  watched  the  waves  coming  in  from 
the  east,  and  thought  of  my  own  native  land  and  of  the  dear 
ones  on  the  other  side  of  the  world.  The  waxing  moon  was 
climbing  half-way  up  to  the  zenith,  a  dim,  silvery  spectre  upon 
the  hot,  blue  sky.  It  had  been  shining  upon  my  own  land,  but  a 
few  short  short  hours  before,  perhaps  had  lighted  up  the  faces 
of  some  of  those  who  were  so  dear  to  me.  As  I  looked,  I  almost 
fancied  I  could  see  them  photographed  upon  its  pale  silvered 
plate. 

There,  in  my  west-side  =novv-mantled  home  in  Chicago  were 
my  children— my  laughing  little  girl — a  father's  heart  went  out* 
to  enfold  them.  There  were  my  good  neighbors  and  true  friends 
from  all  over  the  city.  One  by  one  they  walked  across  the  pol- 
ished plate,  and  bent  upon  me  a  kindly  look.  Friends  of  every 
nationality.  Teuton  and  Hibernian,  Frenchman  and  Norseman, 
Bohemian  and  Dane,  Italian  and  Swede,  Christian  and  Jew,  rich 
and  poor.  Ah  !  How  I  wished  I  could  bid  yon  pale  moon  bear 
to  them  my  own  picture,  looking,  as  I  felt,  brimful  of  good-will, 
and  running  over  with  kindly  fellowship.  To  one  and  all  I  drink 
in  a  cup  as  full  as  yon  sea — a  cup  brimming  over  with  affection. 


% 


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w 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


TUTICORIN— PONDICHEKKV— TANJORi:  — TRICIIINOPOLY    AND 
DURA— HINDOO  TEMPI. KS— A  CMIARMING  RIDE— 
NATIVES  AND  THEIR  DRESS. 


MA- 


!t  .  I'; 


,^  i|i    \ 


I  ; 


]■  ll; 


Tuticorin,  March  i,  1888. 

I  COMMENCE  thi.s  letter  on  the  second  story  of  Jack's  Hotel  at 
half-past  one  o'clock.  Our  ship  lies  five  miles  off,  just  in  view. 
The  place  has  no  harbor,  and  the  water  near  the  shore  is  so 
shoal  that  vessels  of  any  considerable  size  do  not  approach 
nearer  to  the  town.  Befo:e  night  we  must  go  off  on  a  launch 
and  quit  India  forever.  I  leave  it  with  regret,  and  at  the  .same 
time  with  a  feeling  of  relief,  for  our  travel  over  its  vast  distances 
has  been  one  of  labor  and  fatigue  as  well  as  of  pleasure.  We 
entered  it  at  the  mouth  of  the  Hooghly  two  months  ago.  We  went 
400  miles  due  north  of  Calcutta  to  Darjeeling  and  back  ;  then  in 
a  northwesterly  direction,  through  many  cities  and  districts,  1,600 
miles,  to  the  boundary  of  Afghanistan  ;  thence  southerly,  through 
the  heart  of  northern  India,  over  1,600  miles,  to  Bombay;  then 
across  the  Deccan,  via  Madras,  to  this  point,  1,180  miles.  Besides, 
we  travelled  on  branch  roads  about  150  miles — in  all  nearly  5,000 
miles,  and  are  somewhat  fatigued.  We  have  travelled  faithfully, 
observing  and  noting  every  thing  as  well  and  as  intelligently  as 
could  be  done  in  a  land  of  many  languages,  and  all  of  them  un- 
known to  us,  and  have  consciences  quite  at  rest. 

Just  now  I  am  feeling  so  good-natured  that,  like  Uncle  Toby, 
I  could  hardly  kill  a  fly,  for,  in  addition  to  ease  of  Cv)nscience,  we 
have  that  further  inducement  to  kindliness — the  fact  that  we  have 
just  disposed  of  a  delicious  breakfast  of  fried  prawns,  juicy  teal, 
fresh  eggs,  and  shrimp-curry,  washed  down  with  a  good  whiskey 
soda  and  followed  by  fragrant  tea.  A  balmy  sea  breeze  fans  the 
cheek,  and  I  now  and  then  look  out  at  cheerful  coolies  with 
shining  backs,  carrying  jagghery,  the  coarge  sugar  made  from  the 
palm,  to  the  lighters  for  cargoes  for  the  ships  out  on  the  roadstead. 

Formerly  they  made  their  living  diving  for  pearls,  for  which 
this  place  was  famous.  Many  an  angel's  tear  has  been  congealed 
in  the  oyster's  home  near  yonder  small  islands  to  deck  woman's 
'Deauty  and  to  add  to  the  state  of  lordly  rulers.  Many  a  fair 
bride  has  stood  before  the  altar  in  far  western  lands  with  pearls 
upon  her  brow  and  neck,  won  from  the  briny  deep  by  the  fore- 

260 


¥.  I 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  SOUTHERN  INDIA. 


261 


fathers  of  yonder  poor  men  and  women,  who  are  now  bearing 
huge  burdens  upon  their  heads,  sweating  in  the  blazing  sun  for  a 
daily  wage  which  an  American  laborer  would  not  hesitate  to  pay 
for  a  single  cigar  ;  and  yet  they  are  cheerful  and  bright  and  are 
quite  as  contented  in  their  ignorance  and  poverty  as  are  our  own 
favored,  well-paid,  and  educated  working  people.  After  all,  was 
it  not  a  mistake  of  the  poet  when  he  wrote,  "  If  ignorance  be 
bliss,"  or  was  the  little  "  if  "  rcJIy  meant  for  a  synonym  of 
"  since  ?  "  The  philosopher  has  not  yet  discovered  the  secret  of 
how  to  make  men  happy.  Preachers  may  preach,  poets  may 
sing,  and  the  learned  may  philosophize,  but  Robby  was  right 
when  he  said  that  "  man  was  made  to  mourn." 

It  was  quaint  Lawrence  Sterne,  I  think,  who  said  "  I  pity  the 
man  who  can  travel  from  Dan  to  Becrsheba  and  cry,  '  'T  is  all 
barren.'  "  Our  last  trip  in  India  more  than  ever  convinced  me  he 
he  was  right,  so  many  having  said  that  southern  India  was  barren  of 
interest.  The  thistle  on  the  arid  plain  bears  a  flower  of  exquisite 
beauty  ;  the  edelweiss  blooms  in  the  edge  of  eternal  snows  ;  the 
desert  has  sands  of  crystal  clearness.  There  is  no  country  which 
does  not  repay  an  observant  traveller.  "  There  are  sermons  in 
stones  and  good  in  all  things."  Southern  India  is  full  of  beauty 
and  running  over  in  things  of  interest.  Take  Agra  and  Delhi 
out,  and  northern  and  central  India  fall  below  the  southern  in 
that  which  is  really  charming  to  travellers  from  all  temperate 
zones.  One  should  give  a  full  share  of  time  to  that  part  south  of 
a  line  drawn  from  Bombaj*  to  Calcutta.  Yet  this  part  is  scarcely 
touched  by  tourists,  and  when  touched  at  all  is  done  as  hurriedly 
as  if  disease  and  discomfort  were  everywhere  to  be  found. 

It  was  not  until  we  left  Madras  behind  us  that  we  really  saw 
the  India  of  dreams — a  land  with  tropical  vegetation  in  profusion 
and  Ilintioo  temples  in  grandeur.  It  was  in  this  section  that  the 
Dutch,  Portuguese,  and  English  first  saw  the  country,  and  gave 
the  pictures  of  India,  both  of  brush  and  pen,  which  were  seen  by 
us  in  school-books,  and  gave  those  ideas  of  the  whole  land  which 
only  a  visit  to  it  can  eradicate.  Few  people  in  America  can 
realize  that  the  great  bulk  of  this  country  is  a  brown,  dry,  and 
apparently  half-desert  land  during  fully  three  fourths  of  the  year, 
that  only  during  the  wet  season  does  it  wear  a  livery  of  green. 
Trees  and  shrubs  are,  it  is  true,  green  at  all  times,  but  the  grass  is 
brown  and  dry  during  fully  nine  months  of  the  year.  Shortly  after 
leaving  Madras  we  entered  a  region  abounding  in  plantations  of 
palms  and  rice,  which  made  green  the  dominant  color  of  the  land- 
scape. 

We  were  for  200  and  odd  miles  between  the  sea  and  the  east- 
ern Ghauts  and  within  the  influence  of  ocean  atmosphere. 

Here  the  cocoa-nut  and  other  palms  have  their  true  homes,  and 
give  the  landscape  that  tropical  appearance  which  has  so  wonder- 
ful a  charm.     Here  villages  of  natives  arc  hidden  in  the  shade  of 


i1 


ii 


lit 


1'  I 


262 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


.1,  , 


i  \ 


I  • 


\i  I. 


n 


r/i 


li 


stately  trees,  and  the  broad  spreading  banyan  is  rarely  out  of 
sight,  many  of  them  fit  to  stand  for  specimen  pictures.  At  Ma- 
dura is  one  that  may  be  called  perfect.  I  stepped  it  around 
carefully  and  found  an  almost  true  circle  of  660  feet,  or  220  feet 
diameter.  This  tree  from  every  point  of  view  presented  the 
appearance  of  a  flattened  dome,  with  regular  and  even  branches 
and  regularly  distributed  aerial  roots.  There  are  several  varieties 
of  trees  which  send  down  such  roots,  and  have  all  the  appearance 
of  the  true  banyan,  and  all  being  of  the  ficus  or  fig  family.  Small 
fibrous  rootlets  drop  from  a  branch  and  grow  downward  through 
the  air  like  long  moss.  If  not  disturbed,  they  ultimately  reach 
the  earth  and  at  once  take  hold.  The  sap  then  runs  up  in  them 
and  they  commence  to  support  the  parent  tree.  If  a  rootlet 
reaches  a  lower  limb  or  the  body  of  the  tree  before  it  does  the 
earth,  it  not  unfrequcntly  attaches  itself  and  takes  hold  like  a 
parasite,  and  grows  into  the  limb  or  trunk  as  if  it  had  been  an 
original  part  of  it.  The  sap  then  passes  from  the  roots  of  the 
tree  indiscriminately  through  the  main  body  and  through  this 
new  attachment.  Not  unfrequently  these  aerial  attachments 
become  as  large  as  the  main  body,  and  when  they  grow  large  or 
so  thickly  together  as  to  touch  laterally  the  main  trunk,  the  whole 
will  cohere  and  become  a  solid  mass.  This  is  particularly  observed 
in  the  sacred  banyan.  We  saw  one  specimen  where  a  mass  of 
aerial  rootlets  from  branches  close  to  the  main  trunk  had  met 
and  matted  together  some  eight  or  nine  feet  from  the  ground, 
then,  becoming  attached  to  the  main  body,  had  so  grown  into  and 
become  a  part  of  it  that  the  tree  was  full)-  ten  times  as  large 
above  the  point  of  union  as  it  was  below.  Oftentimes  these  trees 
are  very  grotesque  in  appearance,  and  when  of  any  considerable 
size  have  interested  us  very  much. 

In  northern  and  central  India  the  principal  railroad  trains  run 
at  night,  so  as  to  give  tl'.e  foreign  population  the  cool  air  instead 
of  hot  day  to  travel  in  ;  but  in  the  south,  the  best  trains  being 
supported  mainly  by  natives,  are  by  day.  We  so  timed  our  trip 
that  we  did  the  whole  by  daylight.  Our  first  stop  was  at  Pon- 
dicherry,  the  little  French  possession.  I  wanted  to  be  for  a  few 
hours  under  some  other  flag  than  that  of  Hritain,  and  besides, 
here  a  great  deal  of  genuine  French  heroism  was  shown  in  the 
fights  with  England — acts  of  gallantry  which  should  cause  every 
Frenchman  to  feel  proud  of  his  flag.  The  district  has  only  a 
little  over  100  sni>are  miles  of  territory,  and  a  populaticm  of  less 
than  140,000,  bat  supports  the  dignity  of  the  French  republic  in 
a  respectable  manner.  The  town  has  30,000  people,  700  of  them 
being  white,  and  is  decidedly  pretty.  There  are  no  pretensions 
to  grandeur,  but  the  streets  are  wide  and  beautifully  shaded,  the 
trees  running  cast  and  west  being  palms,  on  the  cross  streets  of 
other  woods.  Every  thing  looks  clean,  and  wears  an  air  of  quiet, 
old,  respectable  dignity.     We  regretted  our  stay  was  too  limited 


M 


'  ^: 


■  .»y 


I 


I  ^Am 


GOPURAS   OF    HINDOO   TEMPLE,  MADURA. 


\S 


TRUE  HINDOO  TEMPLES. 


26j 


to  permit  us  to  pay  our  respects  to  the  Governor,  but  at  dinner 
wc  drank  ^food  French  wine  to  the  toast  of  "  Vive  la  Republiquc." 
We  saw  the  daily  parade  of  the  200  native  zouaves  in  pretty  uni- 
forms. They  showed  good  drilling,  and  were  a  handsome  body 
of  men. 

A  hundred  and  odd  miles  brought  us  to  Tanjore,  through  the 
most  densely  populated  part  of  India,  and  the  most  productive. 
The  land  is  low  and  flat,  thoroughly  watered,  and  growing  an 
enormous  amount  of  rice  and  cocoa-nuts.  Rice  was  in  every  stage, 
fro.n  emerald  green,  just  covering  the  paddy  fields  with  young 
shoots,  to  the  yellow  ripe.  Troops  of  men  and  women  were  in 
the  water-soaked  patches  putting  down  the  fresh  plants,  and 
troops  were  bearing  great  loads  on  their  heads  to  the  threshing- 
grounds.  These  threshing  plats  are  artificially  raised,  and 
apparently  each  village  owns  one  in  common.  I  was  informed 
that  three  crops  a  year  are  grown  in  the  district.  At  Tanjore  we 
saw  our  first  grand  Hindoo  temple,  and  afterwards  others  at 
Trichinopoly  and  Madura. 

These  temples  are  rather  great  walled  forts,  with  temple 
attachments,  tlian  mere  religious  edifices,  and  during  many  wars, 
and  particularly  those  of  the  French  and  English,  were  occupied 
and  defended  as  forts.  That  at  Tanjore  is  of  the  highest  order 
architecturally.  The  two  at  Trichinopoly  are  the  largest,  and 
the  one  at  Madura  is  in  the  best  condition.  Hundreds  of 
thousands  of  pilgrims  from  all  over  India  visit  them  every  year, 
and  during  the  April  festivals  in  such  masses  that  disastrous 
accidents  are  not  unusual,  now  and  then  causing  hundreds  to  be 
crushed  by  the  excited  multitudes.  They  are  dedicated  to  Vishnu 
or  Shiva. 

The  largest  is  almost  a  half  mile  square,  and  consists  of  seven 
different  concentric  enclosures,  each  surrounded  by  lofty,  solid 
masonary  walls,  20  to  30  feet  high  and  four  feet  thick,  the  one 
enclosure  being  each  within  the  next  outer  one,  and  each 
separated  from  the  next  by  several  hundred  feet  of  space,  with  a 
street  lined  with  houses.  In  the  centre  of  each  wall,  and  facing 
the  four  cardinal  points  of  the  compass,  are  massive  tapering 
buildings,  from  five  to  eight  stories  in  height.  They  are  50  to 
100  and  over,  feet  high,  with  the  entire  exteriors  a  mass  of  figures 
representing  the  various  incarnations  of  the  God  and  his  attend- 
ants. Tix  loftiest  is  about  150  feet  in  height.  These  buildings 
(Gopuras),  28  in  all,  are  the  gateways  leading  through  the  several 
enclosures  to  the  centre  of  the  whole.  Between  the  first  and 
second  there  is  a  large  population  regardless  of  caste.  Between 
each  of  the  other  walls  the  population  is  regulated  as  to  caste 
until  the  fifth  is  reached.  In  this  only  Brahmins  can  live.  In  the 
sixth  there  are  certain  offices  and  temple  adjuncts  which  only 
Brahmins  can  enter.  In  the  central,  or  seventh  inclosure,  are  the 
sacred  precincts  of  the  God ;  and  into  it  only  the  priesthood  can 


■I 


'li 


1 


264 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


I 


m 


enter,  and  they  only  for  the  performance  of  certain  sacred  rites. 
It  answers  to  the  "  Holy  of  Holies  "  of  Solomon's  temple.  It  is 
said  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  intimated  a  desire  to  view  within 
this  sacred  inclosure.  He  was  earnestly  asked  by  the  priests  not 
to  press  the  request,  as  it  would  cost  at  least  lo.oco  rupees  to 
purify  it  if  it  should  become  contaminated  by  his  presence.  This 
whole  thinj^  is  called  a  temple,  and  is  filled  by  temple  buildings 
and  houses  occupied  by  people  more  or  less  connected  with  the 
temple  service  or  employed  on  their  estates  outside.  It  would 
require  weeks  and  months  to  study  them  in  detail,  and  would 
repay  onh"  those  who  wish  to  study  the  mysteries  of  Hindoo 
religion.  There  arc  several  other  places  \n  southern  India  where 
such  temples  exist.  At  the  old  palace  at  Tanjore  reside  several 
of  the  begums  (widows)  of  the  last  rajah,  who  died  some  50  years 
ago.  They  did  not  ascend  the  burning  pyre,  and  have  lived  here 
in  seclusion  and  are  gradually  dying  out  and  relieving  England  of 
the  expense  of  supporting  them.  Thirty  miles  of  run  brought  us 
to  Trichinopoly,  a  large  town,  now  famous  for  its  cigar  manufac- 
tories. I  purchased  from  a  manufacturer  500  well-made  weeds, 
of  "  Henry  Clay  "  size,  for  eight  rupees — less  than  two  thirds  of  a 
cent  apiece.  They  were  really  good,  but  rather  low-flavored  cigars. 
Before  reaching  Trichinopoly  we  entered  into  the  extension  of 
the  granite  or  Sicnite  mountains,  which  run  north  into  the 
Deccan  and  furnish  the  peculiar  mountain  scenery  about 
Hyderabad.  They  had  been  a  rugged  background  for  the  land- 
scape for  many  miles,  and  relieved  it  of  its  monotony.  Here 
they  are  hardly  mountains,  but  have  become  high,  loose,  rocky 
hills,  or  monster  "  rocks"  protruding  from  the  plains,  frequently 
several  hundred  feet  high,  often  smooth  and  rounded  like  vast 
domes,  or  jagged  and  broken  into  most  grotesque  shapes.  The 
Rock  of  Trichinopoly,  crowned  by  a  temple,  and  once  walled 
in  by  a  fort,  is  several  hundred  feet  high,  its  sides  smooth  and 
precipitous,  and  climbed  only  by  steps  cut  into  the  solid  face.  It 
is  not  unlike  a  mighty  elephant  with  its  legs  extendetl 
forward  and  back,  in  the  position  the  beast  takes  when  he  comes 
down  to  permit  one  to  mount  his  back.  By  the  way,  one  of  these 
animals  attached  to  the  temple  at  the  foot  of  the  "  Rock"  met  us 
as  we  came  down.  He  had  climbed  up  lOO  steps  to  make 
his  salaam  (bow)  to  us  and  to  beg  for  backshish.  It  was  a  queer 
sight  when  the  awkward- looking  monster  descended  again  to  his 
stabling  below.  He  went  down,  however,  nearly  as  easily  as  we 
did,  and  at  the  foot  wheeled  around  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  and 
stretched  out  his  snout  in  a  way  which  plainly  said  :  "  Now  Mr. 
Yankee,  don't  you  think  I  deserve  more  than  you  gave  me 
above?"  I  threw  him  a  copper  coin.  He  blew  a  loud  whistle 
and  put  his  foot  upon  it  in  contempt.  He  then  pointed  to  a 
rupee  which  his  wily  mahout  had  laid  on  the  flagging  as  a  hint  to 
ais.    I  told  him  "  Beggars  should  not  be  choosers,"  and  threw  him 


\\  V' 


//  CHARMING  RIDE. 


265 


a  small  silver  coin.  Our  guide  translated  what  I  said.  For  a 
moment  he  paid  no  attention  to  the  tiny  silver,  but,  seeing  he 
would  get  no  more,  picked  it  up  and  gave  it  to  his  mahout,  and 
even  condescended  to  take  the  copper.  I  then  gave  his  proboscis 
a  rub  and  put  on  it  another  coin.  He  got  down  on  his  knees  to 
give  us  a  profound  good-by.  At  each  of  the  temples  we  have 
visited  in  these  localities  there  are  several  elephants,  which  per- 
formed for  us  and  got  their  rewards.  They  are  more  or  less 
sacred. 

The  view  from  the  "  Rock  "  at  sunrise,  and  for  an  hour  or  two 
after,  was  superb.  The  great  plain,  with  its  rice-fields,  the  forest 
of  palms,  the  different  rocky  points  scattered  over  tiie  plain, 
the  river  stretching  like  a  great  serpent  of  sand,  for  its  bed 
was  nearly  dry,  and  the  city  below  and  around  us  made  a  picture 
as  charming  as  it  was  unique. 

The  ride  of  98  miles  to  Madura  was  dellghtfid.  Although  wc 
started  at  noon,  and  the  sun  was  blazing  hot,  the  motion  of  the 
train  gave  us  a  pleasant  breeze.  We  had  several  green  cocoa-nuts, 
freshly  plucked  in  the  cool  morning,  and  partly  cut  so  that  we 
could  open  them  with  our  pen-knives.  The  water  (not  yet  milk) 
is  a  delicious  drink,  and  has  been  freely  taken  by  us  ever  since  wc 
reached  Siam.  The  scenery  was  of  paddy  fields,  green  and  vari- 
gated  ;  dense  thickets  and  jungles  of  cactus  and  prickly  pear, 
purple  in  bud  and  golden  in  flower;  small  trees  and  bushes  covered 
with  amass  of  vines,  deliciously  green, and  many  glorious  in  bloom  ; 
about  the  hamlets  and  wells  were  great  bushes  and  clumps  of 
oleander,  of  several  tints,  purple,  pink,  and  delicate  rose  mottled 
with  white,  and  all  a  mass  of  the  loveliest  of  flowers  ;  great 
artificial  tanks  as  large  as  lakes,  where  the  water  of  the  rainy 
season,  now  j^ast  a  couple  of  months,  is  stored  for  the  dry  season 
coming;  a  fine  range  of  mountains  in  front  of  us,  lifting  from 
2,000  feet  nearest  us  to  5,000  or  more  feet  over,  and  beyond  piled 
in  artistic  confusion  of  range  and  peak,  and  all  covered  with 
forests,  not  dense,  but  sufficiently  so  to  make,  what  is  so  rare  in 
India  at  this  season,  verdure-covered  mountain  heights,  slopes  and 
gorges.  We  entered  this  range  by  a  handsome  valley  on  a  con- 
siderable grade.  Mountains  were  on  each  side  clothed  in  forest, 
the  umbrella-tree  predominating,  with  a  crown  of  branches  shaped 
like  a  flat-spreading  parasol.  All  was  so  green,  and  the  fields  were 
so  thrifty,  that  one  could  alrnost  imagine  himself  in  Japan,  were  it 
not  for  the  large  troop  of  goats  and  sheep,  the  latter  of  a  brown 
color,  almost  red. 

I  have  noticed  that  the  sheep,  and  even  some  of  the  birds,  take 
to  some  extent  the  hue  of  the  soil  or  rocks  over  which  they  range. 
In  the  Deccan,  where  the  volcanic  tufa  and  trap  rocks  covering 
the  plains  are  black,  the  sheep  are  black,  and  the  kites  are  gray, 
like  the  crags  in  which  they  nest.  Here  the  soil  is  red  and  the 
granite  hills  reddish ;  the  sheep  and  the  kites  are  of  a  reddish- 


it 


II 


m 


w 


366 


A  RACE  iriTJI  TJ/E  SUN. 


t  i 


(4* 


1:1    i 


brown.  Wc  saw  from  the  rail  a  remarkable  sunset  effect.  To  the 
WL-stwartl  was  a  very  broken  raii^'e  of  mountains,  rising  in  cones 
and  peaks  piled  in  confused  heaps.  The  atmosphere  seemed 
charged  with  a  sort  of  mist,  the  rays  of  the  sun  lightening'  it  up 
into  a  luminous  medium.  The  light  seemed  to  come  from  below 
and  out  of  this,  instead  of  from  above.  The  mountains  appeared 
to  be  floating  in  a  fluid  all  glowing  with  light.  Here  and  there  a 
high  peak  cast  a  shadow,  making  great  lines  of  sunlight,  so  tlis- 
tinct  and  marked,  that  they  seemed  tranparent  masses  of  gold- 
tinted  crystal  stretching  through  the  air.  Immediately  under  tlie 
declining  sun  the  mountain  masses  were  so  bright  and  glowing 
that  we  seemed  to  be  looking  upon  the  interior  of  a  furnace. 
The  whole  effect,  I  think,  arose  from  the  mountain  atmosphere 
being  filled  with  dust — a  sort  of  dust-mist.  It  lasted  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  and  was  so  beautiful  that  it  brought  to  me  a  feeling  almost 
of  pain,  perhaps  akin  to  the  sensations  of  a  refined  blind  person 
when  listening  to  delicious  music.  We  spent  an  entire  day  at 
Madura,  in  its  fine  temple  and  driving  among  the  cocoa-nut  and 
the  palm  groves  about  it,  and  along  roads  bordered  with  gro- 
tesque old  banyans. 

The  roads  in  southern,  as  in  every  part  of  India,  are  superb 
(England  has  built  such  vast  lines  of  splendid  roads  out  here  that 
one  of  us  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  calling  her  the 
"  Colossus  of  Roads"),  and  are  always  shaded  by  fine  trees;  in 
the  south  with  palms,  tamarinds,  banyans,  or  mangoes,  all  of  good 
size  and  with  lustrous  foliage.  In  the  south  the  railroads  arc 
fenced  in  with  hedges  of  aloes  (century  plants),  noble  plants  from 
four  to  eight  feet  high,  and  now  with  great  flower-spikes  1 5  to  30 
feet  tall  and  as  large  at  the  base  as  a  man's  thigh.  This  plant  is 
used  in  Bengal  for  hedges  <t>  well  as  here,  but  there  they  do  not 
grow  as  large  or  as  beautifully  regular  as  in  this  (juarter.  The 
fibre  of  the  tall  flower-sialk  is  b;ing  largely  used  in  the  manufac- 
ture of  cordage,  not  only  fcr  rlomestic  purposes  but  also  for  ships. 
It  is  far  more  pliant  and  tlcxiole  than  that  made  from  hemp,  or  of 
what  we  call  sea-grass.  For  lines  on  a  ship  it  can  be  handled 
when  new,  while  the  other  is  stiff  until  after  being  used  for  some 
time.  Large  quantities  of  this  fibre  is  shipped  to  Tuticorin.  I 
think  it  is  a  rather  newly  discovered  industry. 

The  run  from  Madura  here,  above  100  miles,  did  not  afford  as 
green  and  fine  scenery  as  that  immediately  beyond,  but  was  not 
wanting  in  these  conditions.  Lofty  mountains  were  always  in 
sight  to  the  west.  A  large  area  is  planted  in  millet  or  doura  of 
the  small  variety,  about  as  high  as  wheat,  and  with  heads  but 
little  larger.  I  cannot  give  a  better  idea  of  the  cheapness  of  labor 
here  than  by  stating  that  this  grain  is  to  a  large  extent  harvested 
by  cutting  off  the  heads  by  hand,  leaving  the  straw  to  be  after- 
ward cut  for  fodder,  or  to  be  fed  down  on  the  ground.  There  are 
vast  numbers  of  cattle,  goats,  and  many  sheep,  which  are  fed 


NA  TIVE  WOMEN  AND  DRESS. 


267 


almost  entirely  on  this  straw,  stacks  and  ricks  bcintj  seen  in  every 
direction.  There  is  also  in  this  section  a  fjreat  breadth  of  country 
planted  in  cotton,  here  tall,  vi},'orous  plants,  and  beautifully  green, 
flecked  with  white  b(5lls. 

Thousands  of  cotton-pickers  were  in  the  fields,  the  women, 
with  their  bright  scarlet  skirts  and  scarfs,  making  the  green  fields 
look  as  if  ornamented  with  huge  red  flowers.  The  dress  of  the 
wonien  is  a  cloth  wrapped  around  the  waist  and  falling  nearly  to 
the  ankles,  and  then  a  scarf  thrown  over  the  left  shoulder  and 
caught  below  the  waist  under  the  right  arm,  leaving  the  right 
shoulder,  arm,  and  part  of  the  back  free  and  uncovered.  When 
at  work  the  skirt  is  caught  up  between  the  legs  and  fastened  at 
the  >v;vist,  making  a  sort  of  loose,  flowing  hippen.  The  laboring 
niLU  and  boys  arc  nearly  nude,  with  a  short  cloth  around  their 
hips,  and  often  with  only  a  small  clout  not  much  larger  than  a 
fig-leaf,  a  fig-leaf,  too,  of  very  dwarfed  size.  We  have  become  so 
accustomed  to  nearly  naked  people  that  we  have  grown  to  almost 
admire  it,  ami  to  consider  the  least  dress  the  best  dress.  I  have 
grown  quite  used  to  that  sort  of  thing,  and  quote  Thomson  con 
avwre  : 

"  Oh,  fair  undresi;,  best  dress  !    It  checks  no  vein, 
Hut  every  llnwiiij;  liiiil)  in  pleasure  ilrowns, 
.\nil  heiglitens  case  with  grace. 

Frequently  as  we  passed  near  a  lot  of  cotton-pickers  the 
younger  ones  would  salute  the  passing  cars.  I  noticed  that  my 
two  boys  invariably  took  the  salutations  of  the  girls  as  being 
tnade  expressly  for  themselves.  An  oldish  man  relearns  much 
forgotten  human  nature  by  travelling  with  boys. 

I  must  not  forget  to  tell  how  water  is  generally  drawn  from 
wells  and  deep  tanks  for  irrigation  in  southern  India.  It  is  tlone 
with  the  use  of  the  old-fashioned  sweep,  identified  among  us  with 
"  the  old  oaken  bucket  "  of  the  song.  Instead  of  lifting  the  bucket 
with  the  hand,  aided  by  the  sweep,  one,  two,  and  cften  four  and 
five  men  walk  the  lofty  sweep  out  towards  the  large  end,  when 
the  huge  skin  bucket  is  filled,  and  by  their  weight  lifting  it  from 
the  well  or  tank;  the  walkers  above  pace  towards  the  centre  or 
pivot  until  the  bucket  again  descends  into  the  well,  much  the 
same  as  the  "  trick  horse  "  plays  "  see-saw  "  or  "teeter"  in  the 
circus.  The  pole  being  small  and  very  steep,  wdien  the  bucket  is 
lifted  causes  the  men  above  to  look  like  shining,  naked,  black, 
tight-rope  walkers.  The  natives  are  very  dark,  and  many  of  them 
quite  as  black  as  negroes,  but  with  symmetrical  forms,  delicate, 
finely-chiseled  features,  beautiful  feet  and  hands,  ivory  teeth, 
unless  stained,  as  is  generally  the  case,  with  beetel-nut  ;  soft, 
pretty  eyes,  and  glossy  black,  silken  hair.  Many  of  the  men  and 
boys  are  very  handsome.  The  young  women  and  girls  are  ner.rly 
all  pretty,  and  many  really  beautiful.     My  boys  were  constantly 


wm 


♦* 


:^»     1 


268 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


'   ."  I 


.«/ 


calling  out :  "  Look !  there  's  a  beauty ! "  The  men,  when 
dressed,  generally  wear  white  garments;  the  women  nearly 
always  gay  and  bright  colors. 

The  universal  habit  of  carrying  heavy  loads  on  their  head  and 
wearing  the  arms  bare,  untramcllcd,  and  swinging,  gives  the 
women  beautiful,  free  gaits.  When  will  our  women  cease  the 
wretched  habit  of  carrying  the  arms  folded  like  the  wings  of  a 
trussed  turkey?  It  is  one  of  the  abominations  following  the  ugly, 
ungainly,  and  health-destroying  French  fashions  and  costumes. 
No  woman  wearing  such  costume  can  possibly  have  an  artistically 
easy  motion.  The  vaunted  swan-like  swimming  motion  of  some 
of  the  queens  of  society  is  pretty  simply  because  conventionalism 
has  made  it  so.  It  is  not  the  motion  given  our  grandmother 
Eve  when  her  Creator  sent  her  tripping  over  Eden's  hillsides  and 
leaping  babbling  brooks  to  gather  n:)se  leaves  and  sv.'eet  violets  to 
make  soft  her  bridal  bed.  Her  arms  swung  free,  no  stays  bound 
her  willowy  form,  no  high-heeled  French  boots  made  corns  on  her 
rosy  little  toes ;  "  grace  was  in  all  her  steps,  heaven  in  her  eye." 
She  did  not  swim,  but  bounded  so  lightly  that  the  dew-drops 
were  hardly  brushed  away  by  her  feet. 

I  commenced  this  at  Tuticorin,  whence  we  sailed  last  night.  I 
end  it  near  noon  as  we  approach  Colombo,  having  finished  India 
proper  which  we  entered  the  2nd  of  Januar)-,  twu  months  ago 
to-day. 


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CHAPTER  XXVI. 


CEYLON— THE  COCOA  I'ALM  THE  PEOPLE'S  FRIEND— TEA,  COFFEE. 
ANDCINCIIONAS— CM  ARM  INC,  MOUNTAIN  RETREAT— ENGLLSH 
RULE  IN   INDIA— STRICTURES  ON   Tllii  ENGLISHMAN'S  MAN 
NERS. 

Colombo,  March  13,  1888. 

Ceylon  is  generally  visited  by  tourists  before  tiicy  enter  India, 
and  on  tlieir  way  thither.  It  gives  them  their  first  view  of  rich 
tropical  verdure,  and  following  cither  Egypt  or  China  wears  by 
comparisop.  a  most  gorgeous  mantle.  It  was  from  the  writings  of 
such  that  we  hud  built  our  expectations.  While  I  can  hardly  say 
we  are  disappointed,  we  ^\.\-i.  not  carried  off  our  feet  as  others  seem 
to  have  been.  I  think  our  course  the  preferable.  We  left  the 
best  for  the  last,  and  up  to  it  we  were  constantly  growing.  We 
had  not  the  wonderful  wealth  of  green  of  the  Cinnamon  Islands 
constantly  on  memory's  chart  to  make  other  places,  by  compari- 
son, seem  sterile.  We  were  not  overwhelmed  by  its  glories,  yet 
have  those  glories  to  linger  with  us  as  the  last  misc  en  scene  of 
our  Oriental  travels. 

The  island  has  an  area  of  24,000  miles,  and  is  pear-sii,iped.  Its 
northern  or  stem  end,  bending  toward  India,  is  almost  connected 
thereto  by  a  chain  of  rocky  land  called  "  Adam's  Bridge." 
Through  the  length  of  the  island  stretches  a  range  of  mountains, 
apparently  a  prolongation  of  the  granite  and  syenite  ranges  which 
come  down  on  cither  shore  of  the  great  peninsula.  In  Ceylon  the 
chain  so  widens  out  in  the  bulge  of  the  pear  as  to  form  a  great 
mass  of  irregular  piles  thrown  together  in  wild  confusion,  and 
reaching  its  highest  altitude  of  8,200  feet  in  very  nearly  the  centre 
of  this  bulge,  or  fi-om  Co  to  70  miles  from  the  sea,  east,  south,  and 
west ;  along  tlv-  whole  coast  stretches  a  low  plain,  varying  from 
two  or  three  to  ten  or  fifteen  miles  in  width.  This  low  land  about 
the  northern  neck  of  the  island  is  largely  planted  in  Palmyra 
palms.  For  1 20  miles  along  the  western  and  southwestern  shore 
it  is  ;.  fringe  from  one  to  seven  miles  deep  of  cocoa-nut  trees. 
These  two  kinds  of  trees  .'^".pport  the  bull:  of  the  native  popula- 
tion. They  furnish  tiie  material  from  which  they  build  and  roof 
their  huts.  The  sap  gives  them  their  sugar  and  their  intoxicants. 
The  green  nut  is  their  milk,  and  the  ripe  nut  much  of  their  solid 
food.  From  the  bark  and  leaves  they  make  sheds,  fans,  and 
matting ;  from  the  fibre,  sails,  cordage,  fishing  nets,   etc.     The 

2O9 


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270 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


*    .1 


m 


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Mi 


young  leaves  are  their  salads.  Tin  ripe  fruit  gives  them  oil  for 
their  lamps,  for  tlieir  hair,  and  for  cooking  purposes.  They  wear 
for  clothing  the  net  woven  by  nature  about  the  footstalks  of  the 
leaves ;  p'ait  hats  and  sunshades  and  baskets  from  the  fronds, 
and  drink  from  the  cup  ;  sail  in  boats  constructed  of  the  hard,  old 
wood,  and  when  sick  make  medicine  from  the  flowers.  The  uses 
of  the  palm  are  said  to  run  into  several  hundred,  and  are  the 
theme  of  native  poems. 

The  interest,  however,  to  me  in  these  trees  was  not  so  much  in 
what  or  how  many  forms  they  are  helpers  of  man,  as  in  the  long 
aisles,  wi;!'  tl.c  thousand  slender  columns,  the  deep  shade,  and 
the  cool     :  they   afforded   from   the  burning   rays   of    the 

tropical   suii  lere  is  a  wonderful  charm  in  looking  down  the 

long  vistas  of  ;  ...tely  palms,  through  whose  widespreading  fronds 
the  sun  can  scarcely  penetrate,  and  see  hut  after  hut  scattered 
about  in  artistic  confusion,  with  women  sitting  about  tlie  doors 
spinning  or  plaiting,  children  romping,  cocks  crowing  and 
strutting,  and  squirrels  chasing  each  other.  It  is  so  tropical,  so 
calm  and  home-like,  and  yet  so  str:'nge  and  weird. 

The  mountain  scenery  of  Ceylon  is  very  beautiful.  The  peaks 
are  broken  and  jagged  ;  the  slopes  and  gorges  gieen  and  wooded. 
The  valleys  are  very  tortuous,  forcing  the  ro;.ds  to  mount  the 
heights  by  many  windings  and  curves,  throu-ii  tunnels  and  over 
frightful  precipices.  The  entire  island  is  covered  with  a  network 
of  gravelled  roads,  laid  out  with  great  skill  and  built  with  care. 
The  entire  length  of  the  island  is  only  267  miles,  by  140  in  its  great- 
est breadth.  Yet  there  are  something  like  2,000  miles  of  well- 
engineered  roads,  aoout  1,500  miles  being  metalled  or  graded. 
These  roads  permeate  every  part  of  the  island,  and  have  brought 
each  and  every  part  within  easy  access  of  every  other.  There  are 
two  main  railroads  finished.  One  of  128  miles  takes  one  from 
Colombo,  where  the  coolest  nights  rarely  carrry  the  ther- 
mometer below  72  degrees,  up  to  Nuwara  Eliya,  where,  from 
December  to  the  middle  of  March,  there  is  frost  during  clear 
nights.  This  is  a  beautiful  ride  through  scenery  rarel\-  surpassed 
on  anj-  railroad.  Now  up  steep  grades,  overlooking  valleys 
terraced  for  rice  and  lying  i,ooo  or  more  feet  almost  under  you  ; 
then  under  frowning  peaks  lifting  their  rocky  crags  1,000,  2.000, 
and  3,000  feet  almost  verticall)'  over  }'our  head  ;  now  along  the 
steep  sides  of  a  mountain,  bending  in  and  out  of  its  gorges,  and 
darting  through  tunnels,  with  tea  or  coffee  jjlantations  making 
the  steep  slopes  far  below  you  or  opposite  on  tiie  other  side  of 
the  valley,  shine  in  brilliant,  glossy  green.  It  is  a  sad  sight,  how- 
ever, now  and  then,  to  see  noble  coffee  estates  of  hundreds  of 
acies  entirely  abandoned  because  of  the  blight  which  threatened 
a  few  years  ago  to  drive  this  culture  from  the  island,  and  nearly 
ruined  the  planters.  The  coffee  is  a  beautiful  plant,  growing 
three  to  five  feet  high — the  first  when  pruned  so  as  to  spread 


iU. 


COFFEE,  TEA,  AND  CINCHONAS. 


271 


out  like  an  umbrella,  the  latter  when  the  suckers  are  permitted 
to  lift  up.  There  were  formerly  nearly  2CXD,ooo  acres  in  coffee, 
but  now  about  100,000,  and  much  of  this  is  being  rapidly  replaced 
by  tea,  which  has  been  planted  between  the  rows.  These  are  cut 
away  when  the  tea  plant,  at  two  or  three  years  old,  is  fit  for 
plucking. 

I  conversed  with  very  intelligent  planters,  who  believed  the 
day  for  coffee-culture  was  not  past,  and  that  proper  manuring 
would  enable  the  plant  to  outgrow  the  effects  of  the  parasite,  and 
would  still  make  the  product  sufficiently  remunerative  to  repay 
the  extra  ere.  There  are  in  the  island  150,000  acres  in  tea. 
Most  of  this  is  yet  young,  and  the  plants  do  not  make  the  pretty 
fields  which  one  sees  so  green  and  shapely  in  Japan.  Here  tea  is 
plucked  continuously.  In  China  and  Japan  only  twice  a  year. 
The  Ja|)s  grow  and  gather  their  own  crops,  and  care  little  for 
return  of  interest  on  investments, — each  having  only  a  small 
patch  cultivated  in  conjunction  with  other  crops.  Here  the 
culture  is  entireh'  in  the  hands  of  Europeans,  who  have  estates  of 
200  and  up  to  1,000  acres.  These  planters  grow  nothing  for  home 
consumption.  They  buy  every  thing  they  eat  or  consume.  Their 
crops  are  tea  and  coffee  and  cinchonas — one,  or  perhaps  all.  If 
the  cro]5  proves  in  any  year  a  failure,  then  ruin  or  mortgage  is  the 
lot  of  the  planter.  The  coffee  blights  threatened  absolute  ruin. 
But  there  was  shown  much  pluck,  and  many  of  the  estates  were 
rapidly  turned  to  tea,  and  now  there  seems  to  be  a  general  feeling 
of  hope  for  the  future.  There  are  35,000 acres  in  cinchonas,  13,000 
in  cocoa  (coco),  and  35,000  in  cinnamon.  The  latter  is  grown  on 
the  plains  or  hot-lands,  and  is  mostly  in  the  hands  of  well-to-do 
natives  and  Urasians.  Cocoa  takes  a  middle  altitude.  Coffee  and 
tea  the  more  upper  lands. 

The  hot  months  of  Ceylon  are  February,  March,  and  April. 
These,  too,  are  the  dry  months.  Every  one  who  can  rushes  to 
the  hills,  where  the  nights,  at  least,  are  cool.  On  the  tea  estates 
the  rise  and  fall  of  the  thermometer  during  the  34  hours  of  these 
months  is  very  great  and  very  trying  to  those  who  are  compelled 
to  expose  themselves.  At  mid-day  in  the  shade  the  temperature 
rises  to  between  85  and  98  degrees,  while  it  sinks  at  night  to  be- 
tween }^2  and  40  (.legrees.  The  remaining  nine  months  it  does  not 
var\'  more  than  10  or  15  degrees,  or  from  60  to  85.  During  these 
nine  months  the  heat  at  Colombo  and  on  the  coast  is  greater  than 
during  the  v.inter  months,  but  considered  more  healthy.  For  in 
the  winter  the  breezes  come  from  over  the  low  lands  back,  and  is 
laden  with  fever,  while  from  May  to  December  the  southwest 
monsoon  brings  sea-air,  her.'thy,  and  if  not  always  cool  in  it  elf,  vet 
cooling. 

The  charming  railroad  of  74  miles  carries  the  traveller  to  Kandy, 
the  ancient  Singalese  capital.  This  is  a  picturesque  p  ace,  with 
some  beautiful  views,  a  residence  of  the  governor,  and  a  j'uddhist 


»? 


'>  %■  '1.^  » 


272 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\i 


i\ 


'■:     I 


temple,  whore,  in  a  wonderfully  rich  shrine,  one  of  Gautama's 
teeth  is  kept.  Tiiis  is  one  of  the  treasures  of  the  "  li^ht  of  Asia," 
for  which,  it  is  said,  tlie  King  of  Siam  offered  a  million  not  long 
since,  but  in  vain.  The  priests  having  it  in  their  care  are  said  to 
be  among  the  most  intelligent  and  learned  of  the  eastern  craft, 
and  possess  Buddiiistic  lore  of  great  anticjuity  and  value.  One  of 
the  attendants  inf:^rnied  hie  with  much  pride  that  Edwin  Arnold 
worshipped  at  this  shrine  when  last  in  Ceylon.  I  cannot  .say  that 
Edwin  is  a  l^uddhist,  but  his  writings  show  liim  quite  deeply  im- 
bued with  reverence  for  .Siddartha  ((iautama\  One  cannot  talk 
with  the  intelligent  people  at  this  temi)le  without  being  impressed 
with  the  fact  that  their  creed  rests  with  them  upon  enlightened 
faith,  and  not  upon  blind  superstition.  The  i)riests,  too,  wear  an 
expression  of  calm  dignity  utterl}-  at  variance  with  bigotry  or 
fanaticism. 

Ne:'r  Kamly  are  the  celebrated  Paredeniya  botanical  ganiens, 
founde  1  b}-  the  late  king  of  Ceylon,  but  supported  since  1 81 5,  when 
England  determined  she  wanted  all  of  the  island,  by  the  govern- 
ment. Here  we  found  much  that  was  interesting,  but  were,  on 
the  whole,  disappointeti.  We  had  read  at  such  length  of  the  gar- 
dens that  we  possibly  expected  too  much.  There  is  not  so  great  a 
variety  of  tropical  plants  as  are  seen  at  Singajiore.  They  are 
older,  and  make  a  finer  show,  but  that  is  all.  The  fine  oltl  ficus 
elastic;e  or  india-rubber  trees  were  very  large  and  curious.  They 
are  of  the  sanu-  family  as  the  banyan,  and  send  down  aerial  roots, 
only  more  sparingly.  Their  surface  roots  are  marvels,  stretchitig 
on  the  top  of  the  grouiul  to  the  same  distance  as  the  wiile- 
sprcading  branches  above,  and  twisting  and  contorting  like  thin 
flukes  of  iron,  six,  eight,  and  on  to  twenty  inches  high.  They  look- 
like  huge,  thin  re|)tiles,  and  cause  the  natives  to  name  the  tree  the 
"  Snake  tree,"  Many  at  home  have  seen  the  rubber  tree  in  our 
green-houses,  with  great  leaves  many  inches  long.  They  will  be, 
as  I  was,  surprised  to  learn  that  as  the  tree  grows  older  the  leaves 
contract  until  in  the  old  ones  they  are  not  much  larger  than  the 
leaf  of  our  cotton-wood  or  the  balm  of  Gilead.  Not  only  this,  but 
very  many  other,  if  not  the  majority  of  tropical  trees,  have  very 
much  larger  leaves  when  young  than  when  old.  The  youngshoots 
of  te<d\  and  banyans  have  foliage  nearly  a  foot  long,  while  the  full- 
grown  trees  have  leaves  not  more  than  three  inches  in  length.  I 
called  the  attention  of  the  intelligent  Scotch  superintendent  to 
this,  and  had  from  him  the  information  I  give  above.  The  nut- 
meg, clove,  and  allspice,  and  many  varieties  of  palms  in  this 
garden,  are  very  interesting.  We  .saw  a  beautiful  specimen  of  the 
talipot  ])alm  in  full  bloom.  This  noble  tree  blooms  but  once,  and 
then  dies, — blooms  at  from  40  to  60  years  old,  throwing  out  huge 
feathers  or  plumes  of  flowers,  six  to  eight  feet  in  length,  and 
probably  18  inches  in  diameter.  This  one  tree  had  27  of 
these  huge  plumes  drooping  like  ostrich  feathers.      Well  it  may 


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PAREDENIYA    GARDEN. 


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die.  Like  the  century  plant,  its  one  effort  is  worthy  a  long  life, 
and  the  glory  of  the  performance  is  deserving  the  wonderful  dec- 
oration  which  is  spread  over  its  death-scene.  This,  however,  has 
a  privilege  the  aloe  has  not.  The  latter  blooms,  and  its  flower 
dies,  leaving  an  ashy  dead  stalk  before  the  plant  below  dies.  The 
talipot  blooms,  and  while  its  huge  flowers  are  waving  on  its  lofty 
crest,  the  largest  flower  in  the  world,  the  fronds  below  droop  and 
die,  and  then  the  flower  fades  and  turns  to  ripened  seed  on  the 
lofty  stem,  which  to  all  appearances  is  dead  and  already  dry.  The 
flower  outlives  its  supporting  tree. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  books  on  Ceylon  I  had  read  before 
leaving  home,  was  the  little  monograph  of  Prof.  Haeckel.  He 
spoke  of  the  giant  bamboos  of  Paredeniya,  as  being  two  feet  in 
diameter.  I  looked  in  vain  for  them,  but  found  none  larger  than 
nine  inches.  Being  unwilling  to  think  that  a  German  savant  could 
have  made  such  a  mistake,  I  asked  for  the  monsters,  and  was  in- 
formed by  the  superintendent  that  probably  the  largest  bamboo 
in  Ceylon  would  not  exceed  ten  inches.  Detecting  the  worthy 
scientist  in  this  mistake  made  me  feel  less  fearful  of  gainsaying 
his  assertion  that  Kandy  is  a  stiff  and  ugly  place.  To  me  it  has 
several  splendid  views.  I?y  the  way,  he  made  us  commit  a  most 
ridiculous  blunder.  He  speaks  of  the  land-leeches  of  Ceylon  as 
being  such  disagreeable  ])csts  that  we  followed  his  advice  and 
brought  from  home,  greatly  to  our  inconvenience,  huge,  high  rub- 
ber boots,  coming  up  to  the  thigh.  Willie  long  ago  got  tired  of 
his,  and  sold  them  to  the  captain  of  our  ship  in  Siam.  I  held  on 
to  mine,  and  have  just  as  much  need  of  them  as  of  a  pair  of  spurs 
aboard  ship.  By  a  most  singular  coincidence,  a  few  days  after 
we  had  searched  these  gardens  for  this  huge  bamboo,  we  read  in 
the  daily  paper  of  Colombo,  a  letter  from  a  resident  also  taking 
exceptions  to  the  professor's  grass  story.  Travellers  tell  huge 
stories,  the  very  exaggeration  in  them  preventing  belief,  but 
nearly  all  seize  ur  on  isolated  facts,  and  so  describe  them  that  in- 
nocent readers  think  them  rules,  instead  of  except'ions.  There 
are  land-leeches  in  Ceylon,  and  India,  too,  which  are  frequently 
disagreeable,  but  they  are  not  so  prevalent  that  one  should  take 
disagreeable  precaution  to  avoid  them.  Haeckel,  being  out  in 
dews  and  rains,  seeking  specimens,  suffered.  The  ordinary 
traveller  need  not  suffer  much.  Before  we  went  to  the  north  of 
India  1  had  an  irritation  about  the  ankles,  which  tempted  a  large 
amount  of  scratching.  It  passed  off  during  our  three  weeks  in  a 
cool  latitude,  but  returned  again  in  the  south,  and  still  annoys  me 
somewhat — the  result,  I  suppose,  of  some  parasitic  bite.  It  could 
be  removed  at  once  by  slight  applications  of  carbolic.  It  is  quite 
amusing  to  read  the  guide-books,  with  their  long  lists  of  necessary 
articles  for  travel.  Many  incumber  themselves  with  these  things. 
One  of  the  great  annoyances  in  travelling  is  a  large  amount  of 
luggage.     We  brought  much  more  than  we  have  needed.     From 


k  f\ 


i^jir  i- 


111 


\\\\\' '  I, 


I'iuh' 


^•Ih  / 


ll 


274 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


the  time  one  reaches  Japan,  travelling  with  the  sun,  every  article 
a  traveller  can  need  is  to  be  had,  and  far  cheaper  than  anywhere 
in  America  ;  clothin."  at  less  than  half  price. 

We  found  Nuwara  Kliya  a  charming  place  in  which  to  rest.  It 
is  in  a  pretty  valley,  nestled  among  high  mountains,  and  has  an 
altitude  of  6,200  feet.  Mount  Pedro  lifts  2,000  feet  higher, 
reached  from  Nuwara  by  a  two  hours'  walk.  From  its  summit, 
about  sun-rise,  the  view  is  superb.  The  whole  of  Ceylon  may  be 
said  to  be  mapped  out  around  in  most  picturesque  peaks  and 
deep  valleys.  Each  country  has  a  different  cloud  effect  from 
every  other.  In  Ceylon  it  is  varied  and  very  beautiful,  and 
admirably  seen  from  Mount  Pedro.  Wc  started  from  our  hotel 
with  the  first  streak  of  day,  and  while  enjoying  the  wonderful 
panorama  about  us  on  the  summit,  took  our  breakfast,  which  had 
been  sent  to  us.  F"ull  of  our  joys,  we  leisurely  descendeil,  gather- 
ing rare  mosses  and  catching  exquisite  bits  of  views  from  openings 
in  the  mountain  forest,  when  a  gleam  of  lightning  told  us  a  storm 
was  brewing.  We  were  too  late  to  escape,  for  it  came  upon  us 
very  rapidly  and  in  a  very  deluge.  The  trunk  of  a  tree  and  an 
umbrella  partially  screened  us.  Our  mountain  path  soon  became 
the  bed  of  a  torrent,  threatening  to  carry  us  down.  The  storm, 
however,  passed  almost  as  rapidly  as  it  had  arisen,  leaving  us 
thoroughly  drenched,  but  hardly  regretting  it.  It  was  one  more 
sensation  and  a  new  experience. 

This  place  is  a  resort  during  the  hot  weather,  from  January  to 
May,  and  has  a  gubernatorial  cottage.  It  abounds  with  beautiful 
drives  and  walks,  and  has  near  by  a  botanical  garden  for  trees 
and  plants  fitted  for  high  altitudes.  It  would  seem  that  the  old 
boast  of  the  Singalese,  that  their  island  was  the  original  paradise 
of  man  in  his  purer  estate,  was  not  without  some  foundation.  Its 
delicious  clime  certainly  fitted  it  for  man  when  he  spinncd  not 
and  did  not  toil ;  clothing  was  unnecessary  ;  its  valleys  abounded 
in  fruits,  and  its  mountain  forests  were  mighty  parterres  of  bios- 
soms  and  flowers.  For  the  white  man  it  is  too  hot,  and  must 
cause  rapid  deterioration,  but  for  the  dark-skinned,  it  furnishes  a 
congenial  and  beautiful  home.  It  is  as  beautiful  as  Japan,  and  its 
people  are  light  and  graceful,  but  have  not  the  wonderful 
versatility  and  cheerfulness  which  makes  the  Japanese  people  so 
charming. 

Ceylon  has  several  distinct  races  living  upon  it.  Long  before 
history  began  to  be  written,  it  had  prosperous  peoples,  and  con- 
tinued so  for  ages.  It  has  old  cities,  deserted  centuries  ago,  and 
great  tanks  for  gathering  and  holding  water  for  irrigation  pur- 
poses, which  show  that  portions  of  the  island,  now  wild  in  waste, 
were  once  teeming  with  population.  The  ruins  and  the  tanks  are 
all  that  is  left  as  a  record  of  the  people  who  built  them.  Even 
the  descendants  of  these  people  have  dwindled  down  to  a  little 
over  2,000,  and  are  wild,  almost  animal  savages,  shunning  civil- 


z 
o 

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> 

UJ 

u 

of 
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13 
(3 

DC 
h- 

3 

o 

X 
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CO 

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tf'^'i 


U' 


THE  NA  ri  VKS.     CA  TAMARANS. 


275 


izcd  men.  The  Sinhalese,  who  have  Persian  ami  Arab  blood  in 
them,  are  rather  fair,  delicate  in  form  and  organization  ;  are  ex- 
pert manipulators  in  jewelry,  and  other  delicate  work — all  Bud- 
dhists, and  number  less  than  2,ooo,cx)0.  They  were,  many  gen- 
erations ago,  overrun  by  Tamils — vigt)rous,  hardy,  nearly  black 
men  from  southern  India — who,  to-day,  number  about  two  thirds 
of  a  million,  and  arc  the  hard  workers,  and  Hindoo  in  religion. 
The  mixed  bloods — called  Kurasians,  or  liurjjhers — are  the  de- 
scendants of  the  Portuf^uese,  who  held  the  island  for  nearly  a  cen- 
tury and  a  half ;  and  of  the  Du<^ch,  who  controlled  it  for  a  century 
and  a  third,  and  number  less  than  20,ooo.  These,  with  many 
Sinhalese,  are  Catholics.  Other  people  swell  the  po|)ulation  to 
2,700,000,  and  are  governed  by  less  than  5,000  Europeans.  These 
latter  are  planters  and  officials.  Eurasians  and  full  natives  have 
cinnamon  gardens. 

Hy  the  way,  this  plant,  when  cultivated,  is  kept  down  to  a  small 
shrub,  not  over  eight  feet  high.  In  the  forest  it  grows  to  a  pretty 
tree,  as  large  as  the  pear.  A  cinnamon  garden  is  pretty,  the 
foliage  being  very  glossy,  and  of  light,  cheerful  green.  The  bark 
on  the  green  stems,  while  spicy,  has  not  the  pungency  of  the 
cured  article.  The  sun,  in  curing,  seems  to  bring  this  out.  I  will 
here  state  that  the  growing  tea-leaf  has  no  more  flavor  than  an 
ordinary  tasteless  weed,  and  gives  no  promise  to  the  uninitiated 
of  that  wonderful  quality  which  makes  it'the  sweetest  friend  and 
kindest  solace  of  so  many  countless  millions  of  human  beings.  It 
has  its  wonderful  i)roperties  brought  out  by  sun  or  fire-heat.  A 
few  of  the  fine  brands  in  China  are  sun-cured,  but  do  not  reach 
the  general  markets,  being  confined  to  the  larders  of  the  very 
rich  Celestial  connoisseurs.  Cinnamon  and  rice-cultivation  is 
confined  to  the  low,  hot  lands  of  this  island,  and  is  in  the  hands, 
generally,  of  the  old  population.  They  and  the  Tamils  are  the 
fishermen. 

The  native  boat  is  a  queer  thing.  A  log  of  wood  from  10  to 
20  feet  long,  turned  upward  at  crch  end,  is  dug  out  into  a  shallow 
trough,  rarely  over  a  foot  wide.  On  top  of  this  the  boat  is 
carried  with  boards  to  a  length  twice  as  great  as  the  solid  keel 
below,  and,  say,  two  feet  high,  and  of  about  the  same  width. 
From  this  craft  springs  two  bent  poles  to  a  light  log  of  wood,  six 
to  ten  feet  off.  This  out-rigger  makes  the  queer  Singalese  cata- 
maran, one  of  the  safest  small  boats  which  run  out  into  the  sea. 
The  native  sits  with  one  foot  in,  and  one  outside,  of  the  narrow 
trough,  and  rows  or  sails  far  out  on  the  deep,  and  can  brave  a 
storm  the  ordinary  long  boat  could  not  survive.  They  are  rowed 
rapidly  and  .sail  8  to  12  knots  an  hour.  Two  small  platforms, 
say  four  feet  square,  are  built  on  top.  On  these  the  boat- 
man carries  his  freight  and  the  fisherman  his  nets.  I  am  told 
fishermen  frequently  go  forty  miles  to  sea.  All  along  the  coast 
the  natives  are  semi-amphibious.     A  number  of  half-grown  boys 


V- 


H: 


w 


M,t!J 


il  '  i 


>/,. 


'.     / 


276 


A  It  ACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


surround  steamers,  coming  and  going  on  quof  r  little  rafts  built  of 
three  buoyant  sticks  10  co  12  feet  lonj:^  and  la '.hcd  together. 
Upon  this  the  half-naked  fellows  sit  on  their  legs  and  paddle 
very  rapidly.  So  expert  are  they  at  diving  that  a  silver  coin 
thrown  30  to  50  feet  off,  never  reaches  the  bottom  before  it  is 
caught.  Passengers  get  several  of  these  boats  around  in  a  semi- 
circle  off  from  the  steamer,  then  drop  a  small  coin  close  to  the 
ship.  The  boys  spring  toward  it  and  .swim  up  to  the  ])oint,  then 
go  headlong  below,  squirming  like  frogs  after  the  shining  metal. 
Tliey  will  even  get  a  copper,  but  not  very  far  off.  The)'  like  the 
whiteness  of  the  purer  metal.  These  boys  are  all  c[uite  dark,  but 
the  bottoms  of  t^heir  feet  are  almost  white.     Why  ? 

The  .Singalese  are  a  comely  looking  race,  with  features  quite 
effeminate  in  their  delicacy.  This  appearance  is  further  increased 
by  their  long  hair,  tied  in  a  knot  at  the  back  of  the  head  and  held 
i:mooth  by  a  light  t^ortoi.sc-shell  comb,  such  as  young  girls  at  home 
wore  when  j.  was  young.  The  dress  is  the  universal  band  of 
cloth,  here  left  to  fall  like  a  skirt;  a  jacket  is  worn  in  the  cities — 
in  the  country  and  villages  only  cotton  cloth  is  thrown  over  the 
shoulders.  The  women  about  cities  have,  to  a  great  extent, 
adoi'tcd  a  semi-Rurojiean  costume.  At  least,  thi>.'>e  I  saw  had. 
Tiie  Tamil  population  dress  as  the  southern  Indian  does.  I'lie 
tea  and  coffee  estates  are  worked  and  the  heavy  labor  about  cities 
is  done  by  coolies,  l)rought  annually  from  the  coast  of  southern 
India,  from  Mal.ib.ir  to  Madras.  That  region  furnishes  coolie 
labor  west  of  Singapore,  as  China  does  cast  thereof.  They  ar"  a 
hard}-,  hard-working  people,  but  not  so  stcaily  and  ploilding  ;;s 
the  Cliinese.  Who  is?  In  the  jinrickisha,  however,  he  jnUls  and 
runs  nearly  as  well  as  the  Jap.  This  pretty  little  carriage  is  much 
usctl  on  the  fine  roads  of  Ceylon. 

This  leads  me  to  speak  of  another  mode  of  conveyance  here 
and  in  India — the  bullock  cart.  The  Indian  bullocks  all  have  the 
hump,  but  in  other  respects  they  vary  in  form  ;unl  appearances  as 
much  as  do  the  different  breeds  of  our  cattle — in  .-iomc  localities, 
very  tall  and  long  horned.  I  have  seen  a  yoke  over  16  hands 
higli,  and  have  seen  horns  over  three  feet  in  length.  These  hoiiis, 
in  whole  districts,  point  uj)  and  toward  each  other.  In  other 
localities  they  spread  and  often  bend  downward.  In  Burmah  tlv  ; 
ox  is  fair-sized,  but  his  horns  are  very  short.  In  Ceylon  he  i.; 
very  small,  compactly  built,  and  has  little  nubs  for  I-.orns,  and  is 
very  pretty  and  very  (|uick  in  motion.  At  Kalutara,  near  the 
south  end  of  the  island,  three  of  f-;  rode  in  a  little  cart  drawn  by 
a  bullock  41  inches  high,  and  not  much  longer  from  his  horns  to 
the  root  of  his  tail.  Tiie  brave  little  fellow  trotted  at  a  gait  of 
si.x  miles  per  hour.  When,  after  a  steady  pul'  he  felt  tired,  he 
would  give  a  c[uick  back  motion,  as  much  as  to  say,  hold  on.  lie 
is  an  admirable  beast  for  villages.  He  requires  no  harness.  His 
little  yoke  is  fastened  to  the  ends  of  the  shafts  ;  drop  it  over  his 


■t 


'i 


i; 


r'- 


z 
o 


UJ 

o 


O 
q: 


o 

z 


■!     >  -. 


w 


V-f';<f 


C*M 


f^mmmmmmmmim 


lit  A) 


I. 


BULLOCK  CARTS.     FRUITS. 


277 


neck,  and  tie  a  c6rd  to  keep  him  from  throwing  it  off,  and  he  is 
ready.  But  the  Englishman  rarely  deigns  to  use  him.  What  a 
queer  compound  John  Bull  is.  He  loves  liberty  and  yet  is  a  slave 
to  public  opinion.  He  hates  and  abuses  Hindoo  caste,  and  yet 
is  a  worshipper  of  his  own  caste.  He  must  be  in  good  form,  or 
his  caste  is  lost.  I  said  to  a  party  :  "  Why  do  you  not  use  the 
pretty  bullock  cart?"  "  Oh,  we  can't  do  that.  The  natives  use 
it.  We  walk  if  we  can't  get  a  pony.  It  would  not  do."  I  could 
not  help  saying:  "Oh,  you  miserable  humbug!  You  bully  the 
natives  and  wretched  public  opinion  bullies  you." 

We  have  had  both  mangoes  and  mangostines  here,  but  in 
rather  limited  quantities.  I  was  afraid  we  would  sec  no  more  of 
them,  but  at  Kalutara  wo  sat  down  to  as  many  as  we  could  get 
away  with.  They  vv'cre  costly,  but  we  wished  and  got  a  fill. 
And  what  a  fill !  If  the  Christians  will  get  rid  of  the  honey  in 
their  idea  of  heaven  and  substitute  mangostines  it  would  be  much 
more  inviting.  The  pine-apples,  too,  are  splendid.  We  have  had 
bread-fruit  cooktd---fried  like  potatoes  and  boiled.  I  like  the 
latter  very  much —  not  unlike  boiled  chestnuts.  It  and  the  jack- 
fruit  are  similar  in  appearance,  only  the  former  is  as  large  as  a 
large  watermelon  ;  the  other,  the  size  of  tv>'o  small  cocoa-nuts  put 
end  to  end. 

We  have  now  finished  that  vast  country,  or  these  vast  countries, 
which  we  in  America  consider  India,  iut  luding  India  proper,  the 
Straits  Settlements,  Burmah  and  Ceylon  ;  tiiese,  tali  n  together, 
forming  ■;  mighty  link  in  that  cor'on  of  England's  dependencies 
whicli  stretch  around  the  worli  ■'  upofi  which  the  sun  never 
sets. 

While  making  our  three  and  a  qu.irtcr  months'  journeyings  in 
these  lands,  I  have  not  only  observed  the  i^'v-^ical  formation  and 
cliaracteristics  of  the  country  and  the  manners  and  customs  <  ^  the 
people  of  the  various  sections  run  over,  and  tluir  ethnological 
habits  and  peculiarities,  but  I  endeavored  to  study  calmly  an(! 
dispassionately  the  relations  existing  between  the  conquering 
masters  from  England  and  the  conquered  natives.  I  wont  to 
these  countries  with  every  possible  prejudice  aroused  ii  favor  of 
the  dominant  race  and  their  manner  of  dealing  with  the  subdued 
people.  I  had  read  the  books  of  several  travellers  from  our  own 
land,  who  gave  glowing  accounts  of  what  the  Englishmen  .d 
done  for  the  vast  El  Dorado  of  all  times.  But  now,  after  ,ng, 

I  am  forced  to  say  that  there  is  much  in  the  relations    .\isting 
between  the  whites  and  the  dark-skinned  which  is  not  satisfactory. 

I  am  not  prepared  to  say  much  which  would  be  instructive,  or 
perhaps  new,  to  the  student  and  .scholarly  Oriental  observer ;  yet 
I  may,  perhaps,  be  able  to  say  .something  interesting  to  many  who 
have  not  the  time  nor  the  opportunity  to  give  a  close  application 
to  the  great  questions  involved  in  the  march  of  conquest  by 
England  over  a  great  part  of  the  mighty  continent  of  Asia. 


1-311 


w%\ 


278 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


•r,  I 


While  I  have  seen  much  in  India,  and,  indeed,  throughout  the 
East,  of  the  effects  of  Englisli  ascendency  wliicli  pained  nie,  yet 
from  a  deep-seated  love  for  /i^nglo-Saxon  ideas  of  civil  liberty,  I 
am  convinced  that  in  Anglo-Saxon  or  Teutonic  lovers  of  freedom 
will  be  found  the  true  and  real  bulwark  of  lib'M'ty  throughout 
the  world.  The  Anglo-Saxon  has  hail  opportunities  for  develop- 
ing on  the  sea-girt  isle,  the  only  genuine  civil  liberty  which  has 
ever  existed  ;  but  there  is  in  the  strong,  manly  fibre,  and  true, 
warm  heart  of  the  Teuton,  the  germ  of  the  same  love  of  freedom 
and  the  courage  to  maintain  it,  which  has  borne  such  glorious 
fruitage  among  their  cousins  and  congeners  among  English- 
speaking  people.  The  tradition  of  ages,  and  the  constant 
pressure  from  external  forces  have,  however,  repressed  that  civil 
liberty  among  continental  Teutons,  which  h.is  grown  to  so 
grand  proportions  on  the  British  island  and  has  spreatl  in  America 
as  a  mighty  tree.  Though  there  be,  perhaps,  but  little  civil 
liberty,  yet  there  exists  another  kind  in  (Germany,  which  no 
imperial  mandate  nor  militarj'  heel  can  crush  out — manly,  hearty, 
wliole-souled  personal  liberty.  Denied  civil  liberty  by  the  force 
of  circumstances,  and  the  inevitable  pressure  from  without,  the 
Teuton  bravely  fights  for  fatherhunl,  and  permits  imperial  hands 
to  place  the  crown  upon  its  own  imperial  Ijrow,  while  refusing  to 
accept  it  as  the  gift  of  the  people,  but  claiming  it  as  a  heaven-given 
right.  The  Teuton  bravely  fights  for  fatherland  and  upholds  his 
kaiser,  but  says,  in  tones  to  which  the  imperial  rulers  dare  not 
turn  a  deaf  ear  :  "  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go.  and  no  farther." 

"  My  li.inil,  iiiylifeV  my  kintj'--  ;>loiio, 
'I'd  lUDp  and  slay  lii-~  lii^lilfiil  '.lirone. 
My  iierscin'-.  lilKTty  is  mine  nwii, 

.•\ncl  from  luv  lieart  laii  ikVt  l)e  lorn." 


irM 


Denied  civil,  he  has  given  i)erha])s  an  umiue  weight  to  personal, 
liberty.  If  party  strife  and  love  of  office  for  gain  do  not  poison 
the  very  roots  of  liberty  in  America,  the  mingling  of  Anglo-Sa.xon 
ideas  with  the  Teutonic  and  the  bold,  dash-ng  spirit  of  the 
Irish,  the  French,  the  Slav,  and  the  other  pc-pie  will  produce  a 
homogeneous  whole  under  our  flag  not  je'.  dreamedi  of  in  the 
past. 

The  idea,  the  simple  conception,  of  liberty  in  its  i)urest  and 
truest  sense  is  wholly  exotic  in  Asia,  and  cannot  for  ages  take 
growing  root.  It  is  to  I*lngland  alone  that  the  ICast  must  look  for 
the  planting  of  the  seed  and  watering  the  plant ;  and  if  England 
be  the  nation — can  she,  will  she — be  permitted  to  do  it?  \Vherc 
the  English  language  goes  there  goes  Fngli-^h  literature.  The 
A  B  C's — the  primer  of  this  literature— inculcates  a  love  for,  and 
ideas  of,  freedom.  Its  stories  and  romances  ;  its  poetry  and  its 
oratory  ;  its  laws  and  its  philosophy ;  its  very  songs  sung  at  the 
cradle  and  at  the  banquet,  all  inculcate  it.     Where  English  rule 


T'^'EATMENT  OF  NATIVES  BY  ENGLISHMEN.    279 


goes  there  goes  material  prosperity,  or  at  least  the  material  agencies 
for  increasing  material  prosperity.  With  this  goes  schools  and 
education  ;  schools  and  education  beget  a  love  of  reading  and  the 
acquirement  of  knowledge.  The  road  to  preferment  in  India  is 
through  the  English  language.  The  result  is,  there  is  a  greed 
among  the  Indian  boys  to  study  English,  and  a  pride  in  showing  it 
off.  We  never  passed  a  group  of  school-boys  with  books  in  straps 
or  knapsacks  going  to  or  from  school  that  they  did  not  say  some- 
thing to  us  in  our  language,  and  generally  ending  their  fun  by 
shouting:  "  Hip  !  hip  !  hurrah  I  " 

These  boys  are  learning  English  for  the  purpose  of  getting 
lucrative  employment ;  but  they  arc  at  the  same  time  learning  the 
difference  between  the  fat  mastiff  with  tiie  collar-marks  on  his 
neck  and  the  lean  wolf  who  can  sniff  the  free  air  on  the  mountain- 
side. This  will  prove  dangerous  unless  properly  guided.  Men 
who  read  English  and  ponder  over  the  grand  thoughts  written  in 
it  must  become  good  citizens  or  dangerous  slaves.  Such  slaves 
cannot  tamely  submit.  This  fact  the  ordinary  Englishman  shuts 
his  eyes  to.  He  cannot  see  it  in  Ireland,  where  it  is  written  in 
huge  characters.  He  cannot  see  it  in  India,  where  the  govern- 
ment is  affording  every  encouragement  to  material  prosperity,  and 
where  the  individual  Briton  delights  to  treat  the  native  as  a  slave, 
and  takes  pleasure  in  speaking  of  him  as  a  "  nigger."  I  do  not 
mean  that  all  Englishmen  do  this,  but  many  do,  and  they  leaven 
a  mighty  lump.  There  is  something  to  me  not  only  incongruous, 
but  dangerous  in  slavery,  in  form  or  in  name,  where  English  rule 
goes.  There  exists  the  form,  and  it  will  sooner  or  later  tell  in 
India. 

Let  mc  give  some  facts  which  will  illustrate  my  thoughts.  At  a 
table  d'hote  in  Calcutta  one  of  a  party  of  gentlemen  opposite  said 
to  mc  :  "  You  are  a  stranger  here,  I  see."  "  Yes,  but  how  did  you 
know  it?  "  "  Because,"  he  replied,  "  you  ?<\xy  please  to  that  servant 
of  your's,  and  thank  him  when  he  serves  you.  We  never  do  that. 
They  can't  understand  it."  I  laughed  and  told  him  we  had  in 
America  a  tradition  that  George  Washington  lifted  his  hat  to  a 
poor  negro  because  he  could  not  be  outdone  in  politeness  by  a 
slave.  He  rejoined  :  "  That  will  do  in  America,  but  not  in  India  ; 
it  would  soon  ruin  the  servants.  They  are  a  lot  of  niggers,  and  have 
to  be  treated  as  such."  I  told  him  these  "  niggers,"  as  he  called 
them,  were  learning  something,  and  were  already  demanding  a 
par':icipation  in  the  making  of  laws,  and  that  the  English  ought  to 
try  to  elevate  rather  than  to  repress  them  into  a  lot  of  slaves. 
The  companions  of  this  gentleman  said  nothing,  but  seemed  to 
approve  of  what  he  said.  Again  :  I  visited  a  merchant's  office  to 
inspect  shawls,  to  be  shown  us  by  some  Hindoo  merchants.  I 
bought  a  ring  chudder,  and,  finding  I  had  left  my  wallet  in  my 
room,  told  the  n.itive  he  could  go  with  mc  to  the  hotel  for  the 
pay.     The  proprietor,  an  old  resident,  saw  me  to  the  door.    I  got 


M 


I ,  ■>.{ 


l>;    r  r) 


U  V. 


M 


28o 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


into  the  carriage,  inviting  the  native  to  take  a  seat  by  my  side. 
This  he  was  about  to  do,  when  my  friend  imperiouslj-  motioned 
him  to  mount  with  the  driver,  saying :  "  We  never  l^t  those 
fellows  ride  with  us."  Now,  this  Hindoo  was  a  man  of  elegant 
manners,  clean,  bright,  and  spoke  good  English.  Hut  i'.  would 
not  do  for  him  to  ride  inside  with  a  white  man.  It  would  spoil 
him  and  others.     He  had  to  be  kept  in  his  place. 

I  saw  a  man  in  uniform  at  Delhi  kick  a  coolie  from  the  car  simply 
because  he  had  put  the  officer's  package  on,  instead  of  under,  the 
seat.  The  native  took  the  kick  without  a  murmur.  I  could 
name  a  dozen  such  illustrations,  and  from  all  over  India.  I  did 
not  once,  except  at  Lord  Dufferin's  and  at  a  powerful  commis- 
sioner's, ever  hear  any  thing  asked  for  by  an  Englishman,  or  even 
ordered,  in  that  tone  which  softens  an  order  into  a  request.  It 
was  always  an  order,  and  of  the  most  dictatorial  kind,  an  order 
rarely  used  in  old  slave  days  in  America,  except  on  the  cotton 
plantations.  I  was  speaking  in  Ceylon  with  some  resident  Eng- 
lish of  the  beautiful  little  bullocks  and  the  pretty  carts,  and  of 
the  ease  with  which  they  could  be  made  ready,  ami  expressed  my 
surprise  that  I  had  not  seen  them  used  by  the  foreign  residents. 
They  all  said  that  it  was  a  pity  that  tiie  foreigners  could  not  use 
them,  they  were  so  cheap,  convenient,  and  pretty;  but  they  were 
used  by  the  Singalese,  and,  therefore,  it  would  not  do  for  the  gov- 
erning classes  to  be  seen  in  them  ;  and  yet  the  Singalese  are  a 
neat,  graceful,  cheerful,  and  very  bright  people. 

I  did  not  while  in  India  sec  a  single  instance  of  a  free,  friendly 
mingling  of  white  and  native  people,  except  among  the  high-born 
natives  and  the  rulers  at  grand  entertainments.  I  saw  no  native 
and  Englishman  in  what  might  be  called  a  friendly  and  equal  in- 
tercourse, and  from  what  I  could  learn  from  the  English  residents 
themselves,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  familiarity  between  them, 
and  the  majority  say  it  is  right ;  that  the  natives  are  a  conquered 
people,  and  should  be  treated  as  such. 

Others  say  it  is  necessary  that  it  be  so,  because  if  familiarity  be 
permitted  it  would  breed  a  sort  of  contempt  on  the  part  of  these 
people;  that  for  countless  ages  they  have  been  the  slaves  of  their 
superiors,  and  must  be  treated  by  all  white  men  as  they  were 
formerly  treated  by  their  superiors,  their  masters;  that  the  whites 
should  assume  and  hold  the  position  held  in  the  past  by  the  native 
nobility ;  that  to  the  native  every  well-bred  Englishman  must  be 
a  nobleman  ;  that  to  do  otherwise  would  encourage  hopes  impos- 
sible of  fruition,  and  thereby  encourage  mutiny.  Others  again 
say  the  natives  will  not  permit  familiarity ;  that  their  religion 
teaches  that  a  non-Hindoo  is  a  thing  unclean,  to  be  avoided  a 
much  as  possible;  to  be  used,  but  never  to  be  touched,  or  allowed 
to  touch  any  thing  used  for  food  ;  that  if  a  foreigner  drinks  from 
a  high-caste  cup  the  cup  is  defiled  ;  that  a  native  will  meet  a  for- 
eigner in  business,  be  polite  and  courteous,  but  never  or  rarely 


Ni,  \i  1 


ENGLISH  SERVILITY  TO  CASTE. 


281 


invites  him  to  his  house  or  meets  him  in  any  social  manner. 
These  latter  acknowledge  that  the  bullying  manner  of  many  Eng- 
lishmen is  very  unfortunate,  but  that  it  is  the  natural  result  of  the 
nature  of  the  Hindoo  and  the  relations  necessarily  existing  be- 
tween their  conquerors  and  themselves.  A  very  intelligent  editor 
said  :  "  I  have  met  many  of  the  most  intelligent  natives  in  Bom- 
bay. We  are  very  friendly,  but  I  believe  that  while  they  respect 
and  fear,  they  hate  us  in  their  hearts." 

In  no  country  in  the  world  is  more  attention  paid  to  caste  than 
among  the  I^nglish  colonics  throughout  the  East  ;  not  religious, 
as  among  the  Hindoos,  but  .social  caste.  No  one  engaged  in  re- 
tail business  can  enter  the  clique  formed  by  the  Hong,  or  whole- 
sale people.  Officials  enter  it,  but  not  the  butcher  and  baker  and 
c.indlcstick-makcr.  These  latter  complain.  A  foreigner  will  not, 
if  he  can  help  it,  ride  in  the  same  car  with  natives.  1  was  told  we 
must  always  take  first-class  railway  carriages,  because  in  them  we 
would  not  meet  the  nasty  Hindoos.  If  we  went  in  a  second-class, 
in  every  respect  as  comfortable  as  the  first,  some  native  would  be 
with  us.  The  objection  urged  was  my  reason  for  taking  the  lower 
grade.  I  thus  often  met  intelligent  Indians  who  gave  me  an 
insight  into  their  characters  and  much  information.  But  this 
silent  avoidance  of  the  people  is  not  all.  Over  some  second  and 
third-class  and  intermediate  cars  on  every  train  is  written,  not 
only  in  English  but  in  Hindoostanee,  or  other  dialect  of  the 
locality,  "  For  Europeans  only."  One  very  intelligent  man,  who 
spok'-  ICnglish,  somewhat  stilted,  but  with  an  jlegance  and  purity 
I  could  not  equal,  said  this  Was  an  insult  totLf  educated  Hindoo. 
When  the  Viceroy  made  his  vice-regal  inspection  of  the  various 
provinces  just  before  our  arrival,  the  doors  of  the  native  houses 
in  Delhi  were  ordered  to  be  closed  along  which  the  deputy  of  the 
Empress  passed  in  a  sort  of  state  promenade,  and  the  natives  were 
not  allowed  in  the  street,  but  had  to  watch  the  ceremony  from  be- 
hind their  closed  portals  and  from  their  windows,  and  that,  too, 
while  foreigners,  none  of  whom  resided  on  the  particular  street, 
were  filling  t'le  same  with  perfect  freedom.  An  educated  Hindoo, 
speaking  to  us  of  this,  said  it  was  an  insult  which  they  would  not 
.soon  forget.  I  mentioned  these  things  to  an  intelligent  English 
man,  and  said  :  "  The  government  as  such  is  doing  its  part  mag- 
nificently for  this  land  ;  it  builds  splendid  roads,  and  is  carrying 
the  rail  into  every  quarter  of  India  ;  it  builds  canals  and  irrigating 
ditches,  but  the  English  people,  as  individuals,  are  making  a  fearful 
mistake.  These  people  should  be  taught  to  be  good  citizens,  and 
to  discard  their  old  servility.  It  is  no  excuse  that  their  old  mas- 
ters treated  them  as  slaves.  England  boasts  no  slave  can  tread 
on  British  soil.  These  people  are  nominally  free,  but  you  treat 
them  as  slaves,  and  no  slave  could  be  mor^  servile  and  abjec':  in 
manner  than  are  these  dusky  men.  These  Indians  have  the  same 
blood  in  them  that  courses  through  Caucasian   veins.     British 


.trss 


M 


m 


282 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


^i/ 


fe< 


rule,  from  its  constitution,  must  be  a  rule  of  freedom.  In  violat- 
ing such  rule,  you  violate  the  very  foundations  of  your  bill  of 
rights;  a  free  government  must  not  only  have  the  respect  of  the 
governed,  but  must  have  their  love.  Are  you  English  people 
helping  your  government?"  "Ah,  you  talk  like  an  American 
democrat  I  This  is  a  conquered  people,  and  must  be  governed  as 
a  conquered  people.  They  know  they  prosper  under  our  rule,  and 
if  war  should  break  out  between  us  ami  Russia,  they  will  fight  to 
drive  the  Russian  back  to  his  frozen  north." 

The  learned  author  of  "  The  Light  of  Asia,"  with  whom  we  had 
an  hour's  interview,  and  who,  by  the  way,  is  one  of  the  most  brill- 
iant talkers  I  ever  met,  said  my  strictures  were  to  some  extent 
correct,  but  that  no  ill  effect  would  come  of  these  things.  That 
a  mere  handful,  a  few  thousands  at  best,  would  acquire  English 
and  become  iliscontented,  but  that  the  vast  millions  of  India  were 
grateful  to  England  for  the  material  benefits  conferred  ;  that  they 
would  sing  and  be  content,  or  would  plod  and  not  think.  That 
they  would  not  object  to  the  bullying  of  Englishmen  as  long  as 
they  got  their  little  comforts.  It  may  be  so,  but  even  that  is  sad. 
Burke,  in  his  attack  upon  slavery  in  America,  said  :  "  Its  worst 
feature  was,  that  it  taught  the  slave  to  love  the  chain  that  bound 
him." 

I  like  the  Indians  ;  I  love  them  in  the  broad  sense.  They  are 
in  many  respects  a  charming  people.  They  may  be  crafty  and 
deceitful.  Their  masters  now  and  for  countless  ages  make  and 
made  them  so.  But  they  are  poetical,  polite,  and  caressing.  The 
courtesy  of  the  common  man  is  oftentimes  almost  princely  in  its 
tone.  They  spring  from  the  same  stock  with  ourselves.  I  would 
like  them  made  happy,  not  as  mere  animals,  but  as  men,  free  and 
bold,  and  made  so  by  the  rule  of  the  Anglo-Saxon.  I  do  not  want 
Russia  to  go  one  foot  farther  ."outh  in  Asia  than  she  has  gone. 
But  England  is  not  sowing  seeds  to  bear  fruits  of  love  in  Indian 
soil.  She  sends  her  people  to  govern,  to  fill  their  pockets,  and 
then  to  return  home  to  enjoy  their  accumulations.  No  English- 
man goes  to  India  to  make  it  his  home  and  the  home  of  his  chil- 
dren. They  decry  amalgamation,  and  look  down  upon  and  speak 
of  Eurasians,  the  descendants  of  mixed  marriages,  with  a  species 
of  contempt.  A  very  bright  lady,  educated,  with  the  soft  charm- 
ing voice  so  common  among  the  mixed  bloods,  speaking  of  her 
husband's  position,  said  he  did  tolerably  well,  but  could  not  ad- 
vance. It  was  hard  for  a  native-born  to  get  a  good  place ;  that 
her  husband  was  educated  in  England,  but  that  the  many  needy 
Englishmen,  with  influence  to  back  them,  got  the  pick  of  every 
thing.  I  said  I  thought  civil-service  competition  governed  all 
such  things.  "  Yes,"  she  said,  "  in  theory,  but  not  in  practice." 
I  saw  and  regretted  these  things  when  in  India,  but  I  supposed 
that  Russian  sway  was  one  of  absolute  despotism,  crushing  utterly 
the  native,  and  shutting  out   entirely  every  ray  of   liberty.     I 


% 


\ 


l! 


ENGLAND  GOOD  COLONIS'^S. 


a83 


§ 


thought  it  better  that  the  people  of  the  East  should  remain 
as  they  were — steeped  in  ignorance  and  dark  superstition — rather 
than  to  let  in  a  little  light,  and  that  of  a  doubtful  character,  which 
would  be  more  difificult  to  supplant  by  a  better  and  purer  light. 

The  English  are  the  best  colonists  the  world  has  ever  known. 
They  arc  the  worst  amalgamationists  or  niiscegenists.  Theirs  is 
a  strong  fibre,  which  cannot  yield  a  particle  in  mingling  with 
others;  which  attracts  and  molds  into  itself  all  others,  when  not 
met  by  a  too  great  mass.  In  which  latter  case  it  refuses  absorp- 
tion, and  dies  from  mere  inanition,  from  hick  of  food.  It  cannot 
leaven  a  lump  ;  it  demands  to  be  and  must  be  the  lump.  As 
colonists  the  linglish  carryall  the  good  of  the  mother  country,  but 
drop  something  of  their  overweening  conservatism  ;  they  catch 
from  a  new  land  a  tint  of  newness  and  an  idea  and  love  of  prog- 
ress. America  and  Australia,  from  what  I  hear,  not  only  permit, 
but  force,  English  ideas  to  grow  and  expand  as  they  never  could 
have  done  on  British  soil.  The  I'reiich  and  Spanish  lack  fibre,  and 
soon  become  absorbed  in  the  mass  which  surrounds  them  in  their 
colonics.  Hut  England  does  not  colonize  India.  Its  people  go 
not  to  stay,  but  to  sojourn,  to  govern  and  to  absorb  the  wealth  of 
the  land  for  after-life  in  England  ;  they  squeeze  to  the  uttermost 
limit  possible,  restrained  only  when  they  find  danger  of  lessening 
the  vitality  of  the  squeezed  so  that  it  will  yield  nothing  to  their 
chiklren.  The)-  recognize  the  vast  value  of  India  to  the  home 
race.  They  know  that  i2o,ooo  to  20o,cxx)  Englishmen  a  year 
must  live  on  Indian  pabulum,  anil  must,  sooner  or  later,  take 
home  fat  to  keep  bright  the  fireside  of  vast  numbers.  They 
recognize  the  fact  that  India  really  supports  the  English  army; 
that  on  its  fields  must  be  fed  and  drilletl  the  soUliery  to  battle  for 
the  supremacy  of  the  sea-girt  isle,  against  whose  chalk  cliffs  the 
jealousy  of  all  Europe  is  ever  beating  in  mighty  aiul  angry  waves. 
They  give  to  India  every  means  of  increasing  material  wealth,  be- 
cause they  and  their  children  will  take  tithes  of  that  wealth. 
They  feed  the  sacred  Hindoo  cow  because  they  know  that  they 
take  and  must  have  the  cream  of  her  milk.  But  they  will  not  mix 
with  the  people:  they  are  unwilling  to  mingle  their  blood  with 
theirs,  and  when  the  blood  does  become  mixed,  they  despise  the 
amalgam.  They  say  a  child  of  pure  English  blood  cannot  grow 
to  strong  manhood  in  India.  Therefore,  while  they  remain  to 
battle  for  money  on  its  soil,  they  send  their  children  home  to  be 
educated  and  to  grow  up  with  I-lnglish  prejudices  and  wrapped  in 
English  conservatism.  Thus  the  English  will  not — they  say  can- 
not— go  to  India  to  stay;  will  not — they  say  they  cannot — 
anglicize  tl.o  Hindoo.  They  say  the  Hindoos  differ  too  widely 
from  them  ;  that  their  religion  necessarily  keeps  up  this  wide  dif- 
ference ;  that  they  cannot  and  will  not  become  English  ;  and  that 
when  there  be  an  amalgamation,  then  the  Eurasians  lack  stamina 
and  are  not  fit  for  a  governing  class.     Yet  I  saw  one  of  the  hugest 


\ 


W%A 


vii.i 


'* 


J 


'■y. 


Li 


If! 


084 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


ships  commanded  by  a  half-blood  brou^rht  up  in  Enj^lami,  and 
with  very  influential  relatives  at  home,  and  on  a  river  steamer  a 
stalwart  Eurasian  mate  whose  fist  could  strike  a  sledge-hammer 
blow.     The  English  cannot  see  these  things. 

The  Indians  in  most  parts  of  British  India  are  a  servile  set. 
They  never  address  an  employer  as  "  mister,"  but  always  as 
"  master."  There  was  .something  painful  to  me  in  this  abject 
servility,  and  I  found  a  real  relief  in  Jeypore  and  Hyderabad, 
both  governed  by  native  princes,  where  the  natives  looked  me 
squarely  in  the  face  and  seemed  to  feel  they  were  men.  They 
were  respectful,  but  it  was  the  respect  shown  by  the  em- 
ployed to  the  employer,  and  not  the  servility  of  slaves  to  a 
master.  There  are  Eurasians  in  large  numbers  about  Madras  and 
in  southern  India.  They  have  not  been  taught  to  feel  that  they 
belong  to  the  governing  classes.  Their  bearing,  taught  them  by 
the  home  Englishmen,  is  not  manly.  They  have  been  too  much 
relegated  to  the  homes  and  habits  of  their  native  mothers. 
Yet  many  of  them  have  much  of  those  characteristics  which 
make  the  Creoles  of  Louisiana  so  attractive.  There  is  no  racial 
structure  among  the  Indians  to  prevent  them  making  a  first-class 
admixture  with  the  English.    Such  admi.xturc  is  not  hybridization. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 


CITIKS    HENKATII     llIK    INDIAN    ( XKAN  —  TlIK    KKIi    SEA    AND    ITS 
SUOdKsriONS— SINHl'l.AK    WKAIMIIOK— Sl'KZ    CANAl,. 

P.  and  O.  Steamship  "  A'om;"  Rid  Sea,  March  26,  1888. 

We  left  Colombo  the  niorniiisj;  of  the  15th.  Our  ship  was  large 
and  comfortable,  of  5,011  tonnage,  5,000  horse-power,  and  makes 
from  310  to  355  miles  a  ilay;  sails  regularly  between  Sydney  and 
London.  We  reached  Aden,  2,093  niiles,  a  little  after  miilnight 
on  the  morning  of  the  2Jd.  and  will  make  Suez,  another  1.308 
miles,  on  Monday  morning,  the  26th.  We  have,  first  and  second 
from   180  to  200  passengers — quite  a   nice  lot   of  people. 


class, 


It  is 


The  ladies  ilress  for  dinner,  and  some  ot  the  men.  It  is  "gooc 
from,"  antl  there  is  no  crime  so  great  to  the  Briton  as  to  be  out  of 
"  form."  Passengers  are  split  into  coteries.  I  have  tried  to  mix 
in,  but  find  it  a  hard  job.  You  talk  to  a  lady — she  is  sweet  and 
amiable  and  seems  really  gkul  you  speak  to  her;  but  as  soon  as 
you  get  away  she  gets  terribly  ahirmed  lest  she  has  made  a  mis- 
take and  talked  to  the  wrong  fellow. 

We  have  a  few  swells  ;  A  young  peer  who  is  very  quiet  and 
gentlemanly.  There  is;  '' jc  uc  sais  quoi"  ixhctwt  many  of  these 
men  which  is  somehow  or  other  almost  offensive.  A  wild,  Vjrave 
fellow,  who  died  fighting  during  our  late  war,  told  me  that  when 
abroad  he  constantly  felt  like  whaling  a  live  lord.  When  I  asked 
if  they  were  not  gentlemanly,  he  replied  that  "  the)'  were,  but 

that  was  what  was  the  matter;  they  were  too gentlemanly.; 

that  every  gesture  seemed  to  say:  '  I  am  a  gentleman,  and  to  the 
purple  born.'  "  We  have  a  lady — daughter  of  an  Irish  peer. 
She  is  very  bright.  I  repaid  her  for  her  politeness  to  me.  On 
the  17th  I  saw  there  was  not  a  person  aboard  who  had  on  a  piece 
of  green.  I  determined  there  should  be  one  at  least  to  do  houor 
to  St.  Patrick.  Not  being  able  to  raise  a  piece  of  green  ribbon,  I 
put  in  my  buttonhole  a  thin  strip  of  pineapple  leaf.  A  lady  sit- 
ting next  me  at  the  table  asked  me  how  I  could  wear  the  green 
on  an  English  ship,  and  seemed  to  think  me  guilty  of  a  great  dis- 
courtesy. I  replied  the  Queen  had  done  the  same  when  s),c 
named  one  of  her  sons  Patrick.  It  was  a  home  thrust,  but  seeing 
many  people  looking  at  me  askant,  I  pushed  it,  and  soon  had  a 
lot  of  young  Australians  following  my  example.  I  was  not  sure 
their  Hibcrnianism  was  not  because  it  gave  them  a  good  excuse 


\  I 


M 


K 


%■■ 


n 


\S 


i  /> 


1 1 


386 


,7   RACE  WITH  TlIK  SUN. 


\  . 


for  popping  several  champagne  corks  in  honor  of  tlie  preen. 
After  clinner  "  I.aciy  C."  saw  my  favor,  and  asked  wliat  it  nicant. 
The  result  was  I  i)inned  one  on  her.  Slie  confesseil  next  morn- 
ing she  had  slept  better  for  wearing  her  national  color. 

The  big  gun  of  our  com])any  is  the  governor  of  Ce)lon.  Me  is 
here  with  his  suite,  consisting  of  his  secretary  ami  a  yellow  turn- 
spit  ilog.  The  governor  is  a  tlioroughly  safe  man.  I  le  will  never 
set  liis  island  afire.  ( )ur  passage  has  been  a  smooth  one;  it  is 
delightful  to  be  upon  tiie  deck  and  escape  the  hot  cabin.  At 
night  I  have  watched  the  southern  hemisphere.  It  is  so  rich 
with  fine  stars.  I  cannot  tire  of  looking  at  the  true  cross  rising 
and  chasing  the  false  one  in  its  short  semi-circular  track  far  down 
south.  On  the  vast  waste  of  the  Indian  Ocean  I  could  s])eculate 
upon  the  mighty  cities  with  their  world  of  reconls  of  a  high  civili- 
zation lying  beneath  the  blue  waters;  cities  which  gave  to  I'".g\'pt, 
which  never  had  a  childhood,  the  tradition  which  afterward 
became  the  mine  in  which  other  peoi)les  have  delved  for  the 
wisdom  which  became  the  nucleus  for  their  modern  learning. 
Here,  between  India  and  Egypt,  lies  buried  beneath  the  sea 
depths,  the  people  who  gave  to  the  land  of  "Brahma"  and  the 
land  of  "  Ra  "  the  clear  light,  wJMch.  after  a  cataclysm  had 
changed  the  face  of  the  world,  .ind  buried  the  fountains  of  science 
and  the  home  of  learning,  left  traditions  which  were  covered  up 
untler  a  mass  of  superstition  and  supernatural  phantasnvi. 

Egypt's  first  day  was  its  brightest.  People-  cannot  be  great 
and  learned  except  after  ages  of  working  up.  Where  diil  the 
Egyptians  study?  They  left  not  a  single  footprint  showing  they 
ever  struggled  upward.  Their  first  appearance  was  upon  a  pin- 
nacle, from  which  every  succeeding  period  shows  them  descending. 
Not  a  single  day  of  increasing  light,  not  a  moment  of  dawn. 
Where  diil  they  come  from  ?  What  became  of  the  school  in  which 
they  learned  the  knowledge  which  afterward  became  the  secrets 
of  the  priestcraft,  and  enabled  Moses  to  be  the  mighty  la\\gi\'er? 

I  wonder  if  others  feel  as  I  do  when  finding  themselves  in 
regions  so  mixed  up  with  the  misty  past  as  the  Red  Sea.  There 
has  always  been  a  sort  of  vague  idea  that  there  would  be  some 
things  utterly  different  from  things  before  seen.  I  look  out  upon 
the  blue  waste  of  waters  spread  around  me,  just  rippled  b)-  a  light 
wind,  and  ask  myself,  is  it  possible  that  there  to  my  left  lies 
Africa,  stretching  in  mighty  hot  wastes  for  thousands  of  miles,  and 
there  to  my  right  Arabia,  the  cradle  of  that  strange  people  who 
were  never  a  nation,  and  yet  have  overrun  so  manj-  lands  and 
have  been  tlie  foundations  of  so  many  nations.  I  almost  feel  hurt 
with  myself  that  I  do  not  see  something  to  sliow  that  this  sea  is 
different  from  other  seas. 

We  have  had  warm  weather — I  may  say  hot — but  as  yet 
nothing  distressing  until  yesterday.  After  passing  the  Straits  of 
Bab-el-Mandcd  we  had  a  strong  wind  behind  us.  For  a  few  hours 
it  was  very  hot,  sultry,  and  humid,  and  felt  as  close  as  one  expe- 


H 


THOUGHTS  OX   Till':  RED  SEA. 


•87 


•r 


t 


ricnccs  in  a  hot  room  packed  with  people.  I  could  almost  fancy 
Pharaoh's  hosts  were  sweatinj^  and  festering  around  me.  Hefore 
night  the  wind  shifted,  and  the  breeze  caused  by  the  motion  of 
the  ship  was  pleasant.  The  Keil  Sea  has  'ost  for  me  all  its  horrors. 
Aden  is  a  striking-looking  place — bold,  wikl,  desolate  rocks,  from 
which  there  will  not  be  very  unpleasant  change  when  one  takes 
his  trip  into  purgatory.  A  further  shifting  of  the  wind  more 
from  the  northward  made  the  evening  almost  cool.  Then 
another  turn,  and  we  had  a  little  attack  never  experienced  else- 
where. The  air  became  hazy,  and  before  sundown  the  haze 
settled  upon  the  ship  like  a  dew — a  salt  dew,  as  salt  as  light  sea 
spray,  lireathing  was  almost  a  labor.  The  bo.itswain  saj-s  he 
never  saw  this  thing  e.\cept  on  the  Red  Sea,  and  there  only  rarely. 
This  queer  weather  ilid  not  prevent  a  ball  coming  off  on  Saturday 
evening  being  a  success.  It  was  planned  before  tlie  Ruiiw  reached 
Colombo,  where  the  passengers  |,'ot  up  their  toilets.  Altogether 
it  was  a  creditable  thing  and  prepared  the  company  for  the  rest 
whicli  Sunday,  the  25th,  made  necessar}'.  We  have  some  good 
musicians  aboard,  and  nearly  a  hundred  good  voices  mingled  in 
praise  of  God  here  on  the  Red  Sea.  Jew  and  Christian  on  this 
sea  could  meet  on  a  common  ground,  and  the  Mohammedan  sail- 
ors, who  were  playing  cards  under  the  windows  of  the  reading- 
room  when  the  service  was  held,  could  too  have  joined  in  the 
anthem.  For  Moses  founded  the  law  in  the  mountain  whose 
hoary  head  would  be  visible  from  where  I  write  if  the  haze  would 
but  pass  away,  the  law  which  is  the  foundation  rock  of  their 
creeds.  As  the  anthem  swelled  and  rolled  out  over  the  waters,  I 
could  not  help  asking  myself  if  the  Mighty  Ruler  of  all  would 
utterly  discard  the  "  Allah  il  Allah  "  of  the  followers  of  Islam 
uttered  on  Friday,  their  holy  day,  or  of  the  Jews  who  bent  in 
solemn  reverence  on  yesterday,  their  Sabbath,  and  would  only 
hearken  to  those  who  are  worshipping  to-day  ?  God  is  not  only 
a  great  God,  but  must  be  a  good  (iod.  Has  He  written  His  laws 
in  such  characters  that  these  people,  all  of  them  earnest  and  sin- 
cere, could  honestly  draw  from  them  such  different  lessons  and 
be  punished  for  all  eternity  because  of  such  honest  difference  of 
opinion?  Or  does  not  the  Mighty  One  listen  to  the  earnest 
appeal  of  the  Jew  who  prays  to  Him  directly  without  the  aid  of 
any  mediators,  and  to  the  honest  supplication  of  the  Moham- 
medan who  asks  the  mediation  of  his  prophet,  or  the  Christian 
who  rests  upon  the  promises  of  the  Saviour? 

When  we  reached  Suez  we  found,  much  to  our  satisfaction,  that 
the  company  had  made  arrangements  thereafter  to  land  their  pas- 
sengers at  Ismalia.  This  gave  us  an  opportunity  to  pass  through 
hal'  of  the  great  canal,  and  thus  to  acquire  an  acquaintance  with 
Dc  Lesseps'  great  triumph. 

Mere  reading  cannot  fully  enable  a  man  to  comprehend  the 
vast  benefits  springing  out  of  the  Suez  ditch.  Rut  when  one  sees 
the  mighty  ships  lying  in  Chinese  and  Indian  harbors,  and  meets 


It  ( 


\\ 


5'  I' 


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,1!; 


.11 


■I  'i 


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hK 


,<   i 


288 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


them  on  the  Indian  Ocean  anci  on  the  Red  Sea  by  the  dozen,  then 
the  vakie  of  this  j^rcat  artery  comes  home  td  the  understanding. 
The  Red  Sea,  only  a  few  years  ago,  was  aUtiost  as  httle  known  to 
the  world  as  the  Arctic  Ocean,  but  now  its  waters  are  ploughed 
dail>-  by  sliips  of  all  !:inds.  Steamers  of  6,500  tons  are  now  ply. 
iiig  between  London  and  Australia.  We  entered  the  mouth  of 
the  canal  at  three  o'clock,  and  met  three  large  steamers  just  coming 
out.  anil  before  reaching  Ismalia.  less  than  50  miles  off.  seven  more. 

Our  forefathers  turned  their  faces  against  public  improvements 
being  done  by  government.  Their  policy  grew  out  of  State 
jealou.sy.  I'olititian.s — call  them  statesmen  if  you  will — feared  that 
certain  Stales  would  get  UKirc  tlian  their  share  of  public  works, 
and  all  dreading  lest  the  buikling  such  works  would  tend  to  cen- 
tralize power.  ]5ut  times  change,  and  aggregated  man  called 
nations,  as  well  as  individual  men.  change  with  them.  Public 
works,  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole  nation  C' immerciali\-.  are  as 
much  within  the  constitutional  power  of  our  nation  .is  .ire  torti- 
fic.'itions  or  armed  ships  for  the  protection  of  our  seabo.ird. 
The  doctrine  of  strict  construction  is  a  good  one,  and  was  espe- 
cially so  when  statesmen  were  lighting  ag.ainst  monarcliical  ten- 
dencies, but  it  has  been  tlie  too  fruitful  source  of  a  vast  .inior.nt 
of  humbug  and  ignorant  charlatani.sm. 

(jovernment  should  h.i\e  built  j'ears  ago  a  c.ina!  between  Luke 
Michigan  and  the  Mississippi,  but  our  soiuns  at  VVas'.ington 
said  it  was  all  within  a  single  State,  and  tiicrefore  not  natiotuil. 
That  i>  a  n.itional  woi-k  wliich  benefits  the  Americ.in  people  aaad 
is  kei)t  within  tiie  nation's  control,  whether  it  be  within  oni- State 
or  w  itlnn  a  do/en.  \  railroad  spanning  the  continent  benefits 
the  wliole  ])eople,  liut  when,  it  is  controlled  by  a  corporation  it  is 
a  private  affair.  The  Portland  Canal  was  only  three  miles  long, 
and  all  within  one  Kentuck)'  count}-,  but  it  was  for  the  use  of 
tliose  who  used  the  iJ.ooo  miles  of  navigable  waters  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, and  w.is  national.  The  test  of  nationality  should  be 
whether  it  benefits  the  whole  people  or  a  few .  .ind  not  whether 
it  be  located  in  one  .State  or  in  many,  and  whether  it  be  controlled 
b)'  a  few  or  liy  the  people. 

We  gener.illy  form  our  notions  of  an  unseen  thing  by  our 
ideas  of  its  importance.  W.  e  were  greatly  surprisetl  by  the  insig- 
nificant appearance  of  the  hue/.  Canal.  It  h.ui  the  appearance  of 
a  ditch,  r.ither  than  a  mighty  arter>'  for  the  world's  tr.uU-.  Our 
gre.it  ship  almost  filled  it  from  side  to  side,  and  plougheil  the 
miul  from  its  bottom  with  iu-r  huge  screws,  and  w.ished  its 
banks  with  her  swell.  Kven  the  wide  sidings,  where  we  hail 
to  await  otlier  ships  on  tneeting,  were  so  narrow  that  the  ves- 
sels almost  touched.  The  prism  has  greatly  cl'.'tiged,  and 
dredging  is  constantly  necessarw  It  was  a  ipien  sight,  the 
trains  of  camels  sijuattcd  along  the  bank  to  be  loadeii  with  the 
silt  taken  from  the  bed,  and  then  climbing  the  steep  bank  to 
drop  their  .suuly  loads  on  the  desert  at  the  side. 


CHAPTRR   XXVIII 


AN  .\ri<ii,  iKii'ii-  rmiNii  i;— ni.i.Kurnri.  ci.imatk— <  aikd  old 

AMI   NKW  -  AKAI'.Ii'    lOM  I!S— CODD-FKIDAV— l'.(J(  )I.Ak    MLSEl'M 
—  MUTllKK  AND  I5A15H  3,000  YEARS  Ol.l). 


ii 


Luxor  {Thebes).  Egypt,  April  ^,  1.S88. 

TlIIKTV-SIX  yciirs  at;o,  the  latter  part  of  March,  I  sailed  from 
Naples  t(i  Mi^ypt.  Frieiuls  tried  to  dissuade  rnc  from  }^oin<r  so 
late  in  the  season.  They  spoke  of  the  plague  and  other  Egyp. 
tian  dangers,  ami  bade  nie  adieu  with  moist  eyes,  and  my  good 
mother,  when  she  learned  in  our  Kentucky  home  what  I  had 
.ittenipted,  prayed  to  Gixl  to  preserve  her  child,  even  as  Me  had 
preserved  His  chosen  children  centuries  before.  I  got  thr<5ugh 
Cairo  then  without  any  discomfort.  This  year  I  came  again,  simply 
to  look  o:ice  more  at  old  Cheops,  and  to  see  the  shadows  of  40  cen- 
turies clustering  about  his  hoary  brow,  and  to  enable  the  boys  to 
get  a  peep  at  this  storied  land.  We  had  no  e.xpectation  what- 
ever 01  ascending  the  Nile,  and  learning  from  travellers  whom 
\,e  n  et  at  Ismalia  on  landing,  that  t!ie  weather  had  been  intensely 
hot  for  some  few  daj's  past  ;it  Cairo,  we  feared  we  would  even 
have  to  hurry  awa\-  from  tliat  city.  They  told  us  that  the  fleas, 
flies,  heat,  and  mosquitos  were  simply  intolerable  ;  that  everyone 
was  trj'ing  to  gel  away.  The  wind,  however,  changed  that  very 
day.  We  were  really  cold  on  the  cars,  at  night,  and  on  arriving 
at  Cairo  found  the  hotels  crowded,  and  Shepherd's  hostelry  had 
the  appearance  of  a  gay  watering-place. 

Knowing  I  would  have  to  see  Karnak  and  Thebes  now  or 
never,  and  trusting  to  m\-  recollections  of  the  khamscnc  winds, 
that  a  few  days  of  hot  blows  were  apt  to  be  followed  by  a  week 
or  two,  and  probably  more,  of  cool  breezes.  I  tletermined  to  nsk 
a  trip  up  the  Nile  to  tin;  I"'irst  Cataract.  Owing  to  the  troubles 
ill  Xul)ia,  tourists  have  generally  stopped  at  that  point  throughout 
this  season.  We  founil  that  we  could  take  rail  to  Assiout,  and 
thence  on  the  Tost  steamers,  two  a  week,  could  go  to  Assouan, 
taking  forr  days  for  the  up  trip,  stopping  at  the  different  places 
<if  interest  long  enough  to  see  them,  and  remaining  at  the  last 
place  nearly  two  days;  then,  by  quittin;^  the  down  boat  at  Lu.xor, 
we  would  have  four  full  days  for  the  grandest  of  Egyptian  ruins 
before  the  ne.xt  boat  would  descenil. 

We  have  carried  out  s(j  far  the  above  programme.  We  have 
had  simply  delicious  weather,   hot,  it  is  true,  at  mid-day  in  the 

tl9 


'    iii^l 


290 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


"i    \ 


I :  ■  /' 


:li.    / 


''•s 


K  f ' 


sun,  but  with  a  steady  breeze  from  the  north  all  the  time,  and 
the  nights  so  cool  that  we  have  slept  under  blankets.  We  were 
told  the  river  was  falling;  so  rapidly  that  we  would  most  probably 
have  much  time  to  study  the  formation  of  sandbars.  We  have 
bumped  a  dozen  times,  but  have  not  been  at  all  delayed.  We  are 
now  told  we  were  lucky.  What  is  luck?  She  is  the  hand-maiden 
of  every  man  at  one  time  or  other,  and  in  one  form  or  another. 
She  is  ever  by  one's  side,  ready  to  give  help.  The  blind  do  not 
sec  her,  the  timid  or  irresolute  decline  to  take  her  outstretched 
hand.  The  unlucky  man  is  the  man  who  neglects  to  strike  when 
the  iron  is  hot.  The  luck\'  man  is  the  one  who  takes  advantage 
of  proffered  fortune.  Circumstances,  it  is  to  be  confessed,  throw 
more  of  such  proffers  in  the  way  of  one  than  another,  liut  if 
one  will  follow  the  footprints  of  the  lucky  men  ot  the  world, 
one  will  find  at  the  points,  where  chese  seized  fortune  at  the 
flood,  tracks  of  many  faltering  and  hesitating  ones  near  by,  any 
one  of  whom  had  within  reach  the  same  opportunities  as  the 
fortunate  ones  had. 

I  am  writing  at  "Cook's  Luxor  Hotel,"  as  good  a  house  as  we 
could  wish.  A  large  rambling  building  in  a  fine  garden  running 
down  to  the  river.  It  is  embowered  in  noble  palms  and  flow- 
ering trees  and  shrubs,  and  would  be  a  charming  retreat  any- 
where, but  here,  contrasted  with  the  hot  mud-hovels  which  make 
up  an  Egyptian  village,  with  the  burning  san^is  and  sterile  moun- 
tains close  by,  it  is  simply  delightful.  We  are  the  only  f)ccupants  ; 
have  the  whole  house,  do  what  we  please,  and  shall  leave  it  with 
regret.  Invalids  in  search  of  health  couKl  spend  a  month  or  two 
here,  not  only  delightfully,  but  in  this  wondrous  dry  ?tmo=phere 
most  advantageously  in  many  classes  of  complaint  ^.  I  need 
state  only  three  facfs  to  show  the  rapidity  of  evaporation  in 
Upper  Egypt.  Water,  too  warm  to  drink,  is  put  into  a  porous 
jar  and  placed  in  the  wind,  though  in  the  sun  ;  an  hour  after  it 
is  as  cool  as  fair  spring  water.  At  night,  exposed  to  x  breeze, 
even  wnen  the  breeze  is  rather  warm,  before  morning  it  becomes 
almost  ice-cold.  The  night  of  our  arrival  here  I  took  a  pouring 
bath  on  a  balcony.  The  wind  was  balmy  but  '^resh.  The  rapid 
evaporation  so  chilled  me  that  I  couUl  not  stay  long  enougli  for 
a  good  bath.  At  the  foot  of  the  cataract  we  took  a  swim  in  the 
Nile.  We  wore  our  underclothes  for  bathing-suits.  We  hung 
them  up  before  our  state-rooms,  and  in  ten  minutes  they  were 
dry  enough  to  be  worn.  We  have  all  heard  of  the  habit  of  all 
Africans  tc  anoint  themselves  with  oil,  and  travellers  speak  of  it 
us  nasty.  It  is,  however,  necessary  in  very  hot  ami  very  dry 
climates  to  prevent  the  cracking  of  the  skin.  An  English  officer 
told  mc  that  during  the  hot  winds  on  the  upper  Nile  his  hands 
and  face  chapped  worse  than  they  ever  did  in  a  cold  climate — 
chapped  to  bleeding  badly.  I  have  found  fresh  white  butter 
quite  as  pleasant  on  my  hands  as  on  my  toast. 


EGYPTIAX  I- LIES. 


291 


At  Assouan  \vc  wlm'c  in  the  sun  during  two  days.  We  did  not 
use  our  umbrellas,  our  pith  hats  being  quite  comfortable,  and  yet 
we  were  just  on  the  edge  of  the  tropics.  It  has  been  rather  too 
chilly  to  lie  down  on  the  top  of  our  little  steamer  for  any  consid- 
erable time  at  night.  We  have  had  no  mosquito  curtains,  antl 
have  needed  none,  the  breeze  on  the  water  making  them  unneces- 
sary. It  takes  a  hartl  blow,  however,  to  keej)  flies  .iway.  The 
pertinacity  of  an  Egyptian  fly  is  beyond  that  of  any  other  living 
creature.  The  natives  never  brush  them  away.  They  deem  it 
bad  luck  to  do  so.  Flies  are  never  driven  from  a  baby's  face,  and 
it  docs  not  seemannoyeil  by  them.  Its  face  i.-,  rarel)'  washed,  and 
is  so  dirty  that  it  affords  admirable  forage  ground  for  hundreds  (jf 
the  little  brutes.     I  watched  a  chiUl  of  two  and  a  half  years  old 


eniovint 


a    crust    of    bread.        There   was  about    it    a    swa 


rm    o 


f 


flics,  and  I  do  not  exaggerate  when  I  sa}'  do/ens  were  on  its 
face  .it  one  time,  and  in  patches  as  large  as  a  half  dollar  about 
the  eyes  and  mouth.  It  would  screw  up  its  eyes  when  they 
thnatened  to  go  in.       I  thought  some  must   have  gone  into  its 


niou 


th   with   the   bread.      It  die 


not 


jui  at  a! 


anno\-t_'(i 


W 


have  seen  sleeping  children  on   the  streets  whose  f.ices  were  al- 


most   black   with   the  insect^ 


Tl 


ie\'    smiled    a 


if   am 


:cls  were 


whispering  in  their  e.irs.  I  have  seen  men  talking  i)le.isantl\-  to- 
getlu  while  a  dozen  flies  would  be  promenading  about  their 
faces  apparent')"  unnoticed.  I  asked  a  man  how  he  could  stand 
it.  "  Mashallah  I  They  don't  bother  me."  was  his  reply.  This 
h.is  made  the  fl}-  bold,  and  he  seems  utterly  unable  to  understand 
what  a  foreigner  means  when  he  tries  to  drive  him  off.  He  has, 
too.  remarkably  prehensile  claws,  and  keeps  tlum  keen  and  sharp 
when  taking  constitutional  walks  over  I'".uropt'an  countenance^^. 
It  was  prob.d)ly  the  knowledge  of  this  qualitv  which  made  these 
people  pronounce  it  bad  luck  to  drive  them  away.  They  found 
it  best  to  educate  the  masses  to  bear  the  infliction,  anti  so  get  used 
to  it. 


N 


earlv   .1 


11   th 


e   reliirious 


ind 


semi-religious    prohibitions    ami 


u 


sages  of  the  i)eoples  of   the  worlil  prob.ibly  had  their  origin   in 
atcrial  benefit.     The  cow  was  hard  to  rear  in  India.     She 


some  m 
was  mos 


ai 


it  necessarj' — so  the  wise  priesthood  made  her  sacred, 
id  thus  preservetl  her.  Hog's  flesh  was  subject  to  disea^^es  in 
Egypt  and  .Syria,  so  the  hog  was  made  religiously  unclean,  and  be- 
came infested  with  devils.  Tigeons  and  cert.iin  other  birds  fur- 
nish the  best  of  manure.  >o  they  were  maile  semi-sacred  to  insvire 
them  in  great  numliers.  Uncleaiiliness  breetls  disease,  so  the 
priestcraft  pronounceil  certain  rivers  and  pools  cleansing  to  the 
soul,  and  thus  insured  at   least  a  cleansiii"  of  the  bodv.     Taxes 


Kxioi 


Ten. 


(lift^ 


-  J  .,  „. ^ -,.  the  gods  to  insure  eter- 
nal welfare,  however,  were  ever  freely  given.  .So  priestly  rulers 
kejit  their  exchequers  full  through  the  offerings  upon  the  altars, 
which  were  insured  by  the  fears  of  unseen  and  unknowable  dangers. 


\  \  L  ■Jf  la 


\) 


my-     ' 


292 


J  RACK  ii/j'jj  Tin-  srx 


Moses  would  liavc  had  a  hard  time  making  both  ends  meet  with- 
out tlie  f^ifts  to  the  Lord.  Travellers  are  siiocked  by  the  inces- 
sant demand  for  backshish  (gifts)  throu_L;hout  the  miijhty  Kast. 
The  thing  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  for  of  all  the  beggars  the 
world  ever  knew,  there  are  none  equal  to  the  gods  of  the  Orient. 
Their  hands  are  everywhere  represented  extended.  Their  favor 
was  won  b)-  offerings;  their  anger  averted  by  sacrifices.  Like  the 
proboscis  of  a  celebrated  elephant,  their  hands  could  pick  up  a 
pin,  or  carry  off  a  cart-load  of  good  things.  The)-  could  make  a 
lunch  from  a  few  grains  of  rice,  the  widow's  mite,  or  the)'  could 
dexour  a  hecatomb  of  bullocks,  the  gifts  of  a  prince.  The  gods 
took  gifts  and  tlemanilod  them.  The  great  ami  powerful,  pnitit- 
ing  b)-  their  exai.\ple,  took  gifts  and  enforced  the  giving.  Th.e 
poor  took  gifts  ajul  begged  for  them.  The  \\'_il-tc-do,  in  the 
whole  region  of  the  "arly  sun,  reach  out  th'j  iiantl  fnr  commis- 
sions. The  poor  clamor  like  luingr)'  curs  for  crumljs  and  bones, 
and  are  not  ashameii  of  their  clamor. 

I  fear  what  I  have  said  about  Up[)er  Lg)'pt  looks  ton  much  as 
if  I  was  seeing  it  through  rose-coloretl  gl.isses.  When  H.ix-ard 
Ta\lor  and  I  aaveH._d  in  the  East  togetiur  I  suffereil  terribly 
from  fleas.  The  onl)"  ])un  1  remember  him  to  have  made  was 
anent  this  little  torment.  lie  said  Homer  wrote  tlie  "  Iliad," 
Virgil  the  "  .l-lueid  "  ;  that  if  ever  I  wrote  an  epic  it  w  <iulil  be  the 
"  Flead."  I  hail  hoped  that  n(,)w  we  were  about  to  esc.ipe  this 
Egyptian  plague,  but  after  lunching  in  one  of  the  tombs  of  the 
kings  we  lay  down  for  a  n.ip  on  the  s.uids;  m\' doiikex'-bo)-,  dr- 
siring  to  please  the  o/ti  man.  whom  he  tl.itters  by  calling  him 
"  father,"  spread  the  blanket  and  s.uldle  for  me  to  ha\  e  a  nice 
siesta.  Ah  I  moment  of  sad  forgetfulness.  I  slept  an  hour,  but 
the  Nemesis  came.  This  particular  tomb  is  now  calleil  the 
"lunch  tomb."  Hundreds  have  lunched  in  it  this  se.isou,  and 
though  it  is  where  no  living  thing  is  seen,  anil  .^jparently  nothing 
can  live,  yet  the  sanded  floor  was  full  of  ni)-  mortal  enemies, 
brought  t(j  it  bx  the  man\'  donke)'-bo\s  who  in  its  shade  rest 
while  their  empio\'ers  ,ire  wandering  among  the  mighty  caves  of 
the  dead.  I  have  passed  a  good  part  of  my  time  since  then,  .is 
a  hen  with  one  chick  does  in  an  empt)'  chicken-yard — scratching. 
I  am  like  certain  officials  not  far  from  the  olil  court-house  in 
Chicago — only  more  so.  They  have  itching  palu's.  I  am  .ill 
palm.     I  itch  ;ill  over,  aiul  am  raw  in  big  patches. 

This  is  Suiulay,  the  15th.  I  will  resume  my  writing.  We  ,ire 
in  Cairo;  jrot  back  Thursday  night,  having  been  just  two  weeks 
going  over  the  ground,  which  in  olden  time  was  done  on  a 
"dahabeyah  "  (sailing-boat)  in  from  seven  to  ten  weeks.  We  liavc 
not  had  the  easy,  restful  li.e — a  .sort  of  (h)/cf  far  nii>'tc — <.'iijoyed 
b)'the  old  dahabeyah  vo)ageurs,  but  we  have  seen  nearly  all  they 
saw,  and  have  .seen  some  things  better  tiian  they  coukl.  We 
made  230  miles  by  rail,  passing  amon;^  the  farms,  observing  the 


i '  » 


TIIK  DO X KEY  AXD  II IS  MASTER. 


293 


modes  of  farm  life,  ami  have  p.isscil  throiic^h  tlic  scene  twice. 
From  the  roof  of  our  little  steamboat  we  could  look  over  tliehigh 
banks  better  than  from  a  low  sail-boat,  and  have,  therefore,  seen 
the  shore  lands  better.  We  ha\e  seen  the  miLjhty  ruins  ;  have 
seen  them  hastily,  it  is  true,  but  in  these  days  of  Ks^'pytoloj^y  it 
is  waste  of  time  for  each  traveller  to  attempt  to  study  tlic  ruins  in 
situ.  He  can  see  t!u-m.  and  then  read  them  up  intelligently 
afterward  if  his  taste  leaii  him  to  it.  We  have  seen  all  of  these 
things;  have  seen  the  vdley  of  the  Nile  from  Cairo  to  I'hilae 
above  the  First  Cataract,  588  miles,  and  are  still  haviiii,'  pleasant 
weather;  indeed,  to-day  it  is  rather  too  cool  to  <;o  out  without 
one's  vest.  And  now  I  sh.dl  attempt  to  tell  you  somewhat  of 
our  trip,  bepfinnin;^  at  Ismalia,  on  Lake  Timsali,  (jn  the  .Sue/, 
Canal,  and  thence  80  odd  miles  to  Cairo.  We  made  this  bynif,dit 
and  early  mornin;^'.  The  moon  bein;^^  full,  we  saw  almost  as  well 
in  the  clear  nii,dit  as  liy  I'ay.  The  first  JO  miles  was  almost  desert, 
but  soon  the  country  sh<)\>ed  mon^  of  life,  anil  at  early  daybreak 
we  were  lookin;^  over  fields  green  ii;  wheat  and  other  crops;  and 
beautiful  fields  they  were.  The  wheat,  as  in  all  Lower  Rj^xpt,  had 
a  fine  stand,  the  Ljround  well  covered,  but  with  heads  lU't  t)ver  an 
inch  and  a  half  in  length.  The  fjirmers  wore  out  with  the  light, 
much  of  the  labor  being  done  in  the  cool  of  the  morning.  NUn 
were  lifting  water  by  the  "  shadoof" — the  jjole  and  bucket  ami 
by  the  "sakeeyeh.  "  Tiiis  latter  is  a  vertical  wh.eel,  with  buckets 
attached  to  a  long,  endless  rope,  which  goes  ilown  into  the  well, 
and  is  worked  by  an  ox  or  camel,  who  turns  a  liorizontal  wheel 
geared  into  tlu:  verticil  wheil.  It  is  here  aiul  there  seen  in  Lower 
l-k'yp'-  ^^^  ^''i^"-'  hi'iiie.  however,  is  in  the  upi)er  land.  It  Is 
never  greaseil,  and  can  be  heard  for  a  mile  wheezing  antl  groaning. 
Upon  its  moilel,  some  think,  the  music  of  the  Egyptians  is 
founded.  In  sonu-  localitii-s  these  wheels  go  da)'  and  night,  \'ear 
in  and  year  out,  the  men  .iiul  bi'.ists  working  1)\-  relavs,  and  when 
heanl  from  a  fied-up  bo.it  in  the  small  hours  of  the  night  sounds 
very  melancholy.  Men  \\ere  seiii  mounted  upon  donkeys,  them- 
selves or  the  loads  on  which  thi'y  roiie  iie.irK'  coxering  the  patient 
little  brutes. 

There  are  few  ro.uls  in  this  laiul.  and  the  paths  followed  in  the 
fields  are  freciuentlj-  the  little  dikes  between  fields.  On  these 
narrow  tri'ails  tlie  ch^ikcy  was  jiacing  along,  his  rider's  feet 
dangling  down  .almost  to  the  grounil.  l'"ew  things  strike  the 
western  man  as  being  more 
solemn-looking,  turb.med  man.  in  loiu 
u 


droll   on   his   arrival    here  than    a 
flowiuij  "■arnunts,  mounted 


poll  a  little  donkey  three  feet  high.  They  look  solemn  alike, 
and  so  dove-tailed  together  that  one  soon  comes  to  feel  they  were 
fashioned  on  the   .same  day,   the  one   for  the   other.     They  are 


wonder 


full) 


intimate 


and    seem   to   understand   each   ;'^h 


er 


per- 


fectly.    The  native  ICgypti.ins  are  nither  cowartil}'.      The)- ([uarrel 
and  vociferate  fearfully,  but  one  never  sees  a  gooil  bloody  nose 


if 


tl 


894 


A  R4CE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


y^l 


\  I 


growings  out  of  any  squabble.  But  woid-fit^hting  does  not  satisfy 
the  human  heart.  Here  tlie  donkey  comes  into  full  play.  He 
has  a  part  of  his  anatomy  always  convenient  iox  his  master  to 
empty  his  wrath  ujion,  and  when  a  wordy  war  ends  the  solemn 
brute  takes  the  cudgel  as  his  part  of  the  fray.  Like  a  boy,  he  has 
a  feature  made  for  the  rod,  and  fiiulinj^  his  master  ans^ry,  at  once 
turns  this  part  to  the  stroke. 

On  arriving  at  Cairo  we  d -ove  at  once  to  Shepherd's  hotel. 
I  thought  it  the  same  I  had  stayed  in  thirtj-six  years  ago.  I  had 
this  idea  from  persons  telling  me  it  was  the  only  hotel  here  at 
that  time.  The  name,  however,  did  not  sound  familiar.  The 
landlord,  to  whom  I  mentioned  my  desire  to  sta)'  in  the  same 
house,  and  that  his  did  not  look  right  to  me,  explained  that  many 
changes  had  been  made.  After  breakfast  we  sallied  out.  There 
was  around  me  a  beautiful  city — tall  houses  and  witle  streets, 
beautiful  gardens  and  squares,  flowers  and  trees,  victorias  antl 
landaus.  Nothing  seemed  familiar  until  we  were  besieged  by  a 
lot  of  donkey-boys.  I  almost  fancied  I  saw  the  same  little  animal 
which  long  ago  carried  me  so  bravely  over  the  hot  sand-;  to  the 
pyramids  ;  I  went  up  to  him  anil  called  him  "  .Saladin,"  and  ca- 
ressed his  ears.  He  did  not  smile  nor  look  particularly  pleased, 
but  he  did  not  resent  my  familiarity.  We  proposed  a  ride,  anti 
when  I  said  I  would  ride  "  Saladin,"  his  owner  said  that  was  not 
his  name,  but  "  Mary  Anderson  "  was.  I  insisted  that  Ik  was 
wrong,  that  I  had  ridden  that  donkcj'  before  he  (the  boy)  was 
born,  a)-e,  when  his  father  was  a  boy.  I  asked  him  if  his  father 
was  not  named  "  Mohammed."  He  said  :  "  Oh,  effendi,  )i)u  are 
right  I  "  1  asked  if  his  father  was  not,  when  young,  a  donkey- 
boy  ;  "  In  shallah  I  he  was."  I  then  asked  if  that  particular  don- 
key had  not  belonged  to  his  father,  ami  if  he  was  not  40  years 
old.  He  admitted  he  was.  I  am  glad  I  ilid  not  fix  the  brute's 
age  at  4,ocK)  years,  for  that  boy  would  have  agreed  with  any  thing 
I  said.  He  was  fascinated.  When  I  got  up  he  grinned  to  an- 
other boy,  and,  pointing  at  me,  touched  his  head  to  indicate  1 
was  daft.  I  was  in  the  Cairo  of  old  on  that  donkey's  back,  but 
that  was  all  that  made  it  familiar. 

We  rode  through  the  bazaars,  narrow  little  streets  nearly  covered 
overhead,  with  turbancd  merchants  sitting  in  their  little  stores 
surrounded  by  their  wealth.  We  passed  a  funeral  procession — a 
couple  of  doxcn  women  howling  their  wail  for  the  dead  ;  we  met 
a  marriage  procession,  with  a  closed  palanquin  on  two  long  poles 
borne  by  two  camels,  one  before  and  one  behind,  followed  by 
gay  people  singing  in  joy,  and  with  drums  beating  like  mad.  We 
stopped  to  see  the  two  processions  meet.  The  drums  of  the  one 
beat  and  the  gay  ones  laughed  anci  sang,  while  the  mourners  of 
the  others  shrieked  their  sorrow.  Both  were  .shams,  mere  forms. 
There  was  no  real  joy  in  the  one  nor  grief  in  the  other.  Hoth 
were  mere  jiageants,  and  the  actors  were  paid   for  the  parts  they 


THE  PYRAMIDS  AND  AX  OLD  MEMORY 


295 


II' 

to 

ti 

k'lS 


played.  I  do  not  know  that  we  should  be  shocked  at  such  things. 
I  have  seen  the  same  in  lands  claimin}^  a  higher  civilization.  The 
performers  there,  however,  were  paying  a  debt  to  fashion  and 
form,  here  they  were  earning  bread. 

We  rode  out  toward  the  tombs  of  tiie  Mamelukes,  passing 
through  narrow  lanes  with  long  rows  of  nearly  dead  walls,  doors 
now  and  then  cutting  through  them.  Men.  women,  and  children 
were  squatting  up  against  the  walls  festering  in  the  sun.  Flies 
were  swarming  about  them,  and  gathered  in  knots  around  the 
children's  eyes,  and  all,  old  and  young,  held  out  their  hands  and 
asked  for  "  backshish."  This  was  the  Cairo  of  1852.  But,  then, 
there  was  one  thing  lacking — our  little  steeds  were  not  compelled 
to  pick  their  way  among  sleeping  pariah  dogs,  and  there  were  no 
troops  of  them  about  the  tombs.  The  foreigners  have  done  at 
least  this  good  by  their  "  occuijation."  They  liave  had  nearly  all 
of  these  brutes  killed  off,  and  the  streets  are  cleaned  by  regular 
scavengers.  There  are  30,000  foreigners  in  Cairo,  and  it  is  really 
governed  by  the  English.  Tiie  English  dread  cholera,  and  have 
made  this  cit\',  with  its  500,000  Asiatics  and  Africans,  nearly  as 
clean  as  any  European  capital. 

We  drove  in  the  afternoon  to  the  pyramids  in  a  victoria,  over 
a  beautiful  road  shaded  by  a  double  line  of  fine  trees.  Old  Cheops 
did  not  look  natural.  He  seemed  small  from  this  avenue  of  civi- 
lization. Years  ago  I  waded  to  him  through  deep  sands.  The 
hot  sun  burned  into  my  brain,  and  I  wore  a  green  veil  to  protect 
my  eyes  from  the  glare  and  the  driving  sands.  Now  green  fields 
run  nearly  up  to  Geezah.  Said  ami  Ismail  Pashas  have  left 
Kgypt  covered  witli  debt,  but  they  did  much  to  improve  the 
material  of  the  land.  As  we  drove  up,  the  two  pyramids  lacketl 
hugeness,  but  before  I  reached  the  top  of  Cheops,  though  with 
two  stalwart  Arabs  to  lift  me  up  t^.e  rocky  steeps,  I  reached  the 
conclusion  that  they  were  mighty  mountains  of  stone,  and  that 
over  210  pounds  of  solid  flesh  were  a  heavy  load  to  carry  up  to 
the  summit  where  40  odd  centuries  sit  enthroned.  I  looked  in 
vain  for  two  sets  of  initials  coupled  in  brackets,  which  I  cut  in 
the  cold  stone  36  years  ago.  They  are  lost  among  masses  of 
others.  It  is  well.  She  is  fat,  and  nearly  60  ;  I  am  fat,  and  over 
60.  One  flame  burned  out  another's  burning.  She  did  not  even 
wait  to  learn  from  me  if  I  fulfilled  my  promise  to  grave  our  names 
upon  the  pyramid's  highest  stone.  I  wonder  if,  in  these  36  years, 
she  has  ever  thought  of  that  promise  made  under  the  softest  of 
skies,  and  whicli  one  of  us  thought  could  never  be  forgotten  ? 
What  a  boon  it  is  to  man  that  his  heart  is  made  of  malleable 
material  rather  than  of  adamantine  and  brittle  steel ! 

Wy  the  way,  sensible  men  justly  iuv'eigh  the  habit  of 
"  vanity "  in  carving  its  name  upon  monuments  and  thereby 
defacing  them.  But  there  is  sense  in  cutting  one's  name  upon 
imperishable  rock  without  defacing  it.     Some  may  come  after- 


■M 


i  li 


396 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


K"i  i' 


lis,  '/ 

\\  -\  ■    I 


n: 


ward,  and,  seeing  it,  feci  as  if  meeting  an  old  friend.  My  heart 
was  warmed  up  here  in  Egypt  when  seeing  the  names  of  some 
old  acquaintance  now  dead.  I  felt  we  were  living  over  again  a 
half-forgotten  past.  I  saw  "  Jenny  Lind's  "  name  upon  the  pyra- 
mid. Did  she  have  it  cut,  or  did  some  of  her  lovers  do  it  ?  I  do 
not  know.  But  for  a  moment  there  came  from  the  West,  over  the 
dead  desert,  a  trill  of  perfected  harmony  which  I  never  heard  but 
once,  and  will  never  hear  again  until  an  angel  song  shall  come  to 
my  ear  from  white-robed  ones  hovering  around  tht;  throne  of  the 
Eternal.  I  can  almost  fancy  that  Bayard  Taylor  had  the  name 
cut.  I  have  a  vague  recollection  of  his  telling  me  of  it.  He 
almost  worshipped  the  Swedish  Nightingale. 

We  watched  the  sun  sink  beneath  the  western  sands  on  his  tire- 
less voyage  around  the  world.  We  were  glad  our  path  did  not 
carry  us  across  those  bleak  sands.  We  have  not  abandoned  our 
race,  but  we  have  mucli  to  see  before  we  can  gird  our  loins  for  the 
home-stretch.  My  old  legs  enabled  me  to  descend  Cheops'  ribbed 
sides  quite  rapidly,  so  as  to  look  upon  the  .Sphin.x  as  the  shades  of 
evening  should  gather  around  it.  I  wished  the  boys  to  sec  it  first 
when  the  broad  glare  of  day  should  not  too  much  reveal  its  de- 
facement. A  garrulous  fellah  said  his  name  was  "  Mark  Twain," 
and  that  for  a  shilling  he  would  mount  and  descend  oUI  Cheops  in 
eight  minutes.  With  watch  in  hand  I  promised  the  shilling. 
How  he  did  climb  I  How  his  nimble,  half-naked  legs  did  spring 
up  the  huge  steps  !  He  gained  his  shilling,  and  had  a  half  minute 
to  spare. 

We  loitered  about  until  the  full  moon  came  up  from  the  cast. 
One  should  see  the  woman-faced  monument  first  by  moonlight. 
Then  there  is  one  point  from  which  it  can  be  seen,  when  it  is  not 
all  fancy  and  sentiment  which  can  pronounce  it  the  calmest  and 
most  dignified  monument  of  the  world.  We  were  fortunate  in 
being  here  during  the  full  moon.  There  is  a  quiet  grandeur,  too, 
about  the  pyramids  by  moonlight  which  one  cannot  conceive  who 
sees  them  only  in  the  broad  glare  of  sunlight.  We  walked  around 
them  so  as  to  see  them  in  deep  shade,  and  then  again  in  silvery 
light.  I  think  the  boys  will  remember  it  as  long  as  they  live. 
The  ne.\t  day  we  visited  the  citadel  and  the  gorgeous  mosque  of 
Mehemet  Ali.  It  is  the  resting-place  of  a  great  man.  He  was 
one  of  the  men  of  the  century.  The  exquisite  alabaster  walls  and 
pillars,  with  the  pure  grain  and  forms  of  the  translucent  stone  fad- 
ing and  dimming  into  opaque  marble,  well  befit  the  tomb  of  a  man 
whose  clear  and  transparent  intellect  faded  and  clouded  before  he 
died.  Near  by  we  visited  the  Arabic  cemetery  and  the  tombs  of 
the  khedives.  The  ne.xt  day  was  to  be  Good-Friday— one  of  the 
Moslem's  holiest  days.  Thousands  wended  their  way  to  the  tombs 
to  spend  the  night  among  their  loved  dead  ;  the  rich  in  carriages, 
with  servants  bearing  their  food  and  gifts  for  the  destitute, — the 
poor  on  carts,  on  donkeys,  or  a-foot,  with  their  loads  on  their  heads. 


i^--..-_. 


1-1 


\  ' 


RAMESSES   it.,     NINETEENTH   DYNASTY,    KNOWN    AS  .SESOSTRIS. 


:>M? 


■I'   I 


T 

Ml 


^ 


If 

t 

11 

f 

[r 

If 


■s/  j 


::M 


I 


I 


1. 1 


:    ! 


Tfiirarj 


)'  h 


BOOL    K  MUSEUM.     A  Af OTHER  AND  BABE.      297 

An  Arabian  tomb  is  a  sort  of  house,  more  or  less  luxurious,  ac- 
cording to  the  family  means.  There  apj  halls  and  rooms,  or  open 
courts.  Mourners  spend  the  night  and  part  of  Good-1'Viday  in 
religious  exercises,  and  distribute  gifts  and  food  to  the  poor  and 
destitute.  Many  a  lean  devil  gets  then  the  iily  scjiiare  meal  of 
his  year.  It  was  a  queer  sight, — the  moth  }  crowd.  There  were 
rich  ladies  veiled,  showing  onh*  their  tlark  eyes  and  a  little  white 
complexion — others  veiled,  too,  but  revt  ding  the  glimpse  ot  a 
face  of  almost  ebon  blackness.  There  were  poor  women  with 
faces  only  half  covereil,  ami  fellaheen  women  with  uncovered 
countenances.  There  were  rich  men  preceded  by  out-runners, 
and  poor  men  on  donkeys  and  afoot.  The  alleys  through  the 
tombs  are  only  a  few  feet  wide.  This  niotlev  crowil  met  and  jos- 
tled against  each  other,  all  intent  upon  their  pious  duties.  The 
old  Coptic  cluirch,  with  subterranean  chapel  of  Lady  Mary,  inolil 
Cairo,  aroused  in  oiir  hearts  sentiments  which  our  doubts  as  to  the 
truth  of  its  tradition  could  not  efface.  Here  for  centuries  tlic 
Copts  have  knelt  in  holy  fervor,  for  in  the  two  niches  in  the  chajiel 
wall  they  beliive  the  Virgin  Marj'  and  her  i  hild  with  Joseph 
rested  after  the  (ligiit  to  Egypt.  There  may  Ik  ,  and  i)robably  is, 
no  real  found.ition  for  the  legend.  lUit  the  belief  am'  scniiment 
of  centuries  lia\e  consecrated  the  place.  To  have  sat  upon  one 
of  these  marble  slabs  wt)ulil  have  seemed  to  me  a  desecration. 

On  our  return  drive,  through  an  open  square  abutting  upon  the 
Esbekeeyeli  garden,  I  casually  glanced  at  the  Hotel  d' Orient. 
"  Eureka  I  "  I  cried  ;  "  there  i-^  my  oKl  hotel  of  185J."  I  felt  cer- 
tain of  the  recognition.  I  alighted,  and  was  told  that,  though 
much  enlarged,  a  part  of  the  house  is  the  same  it  was  nearly  40 
years  ago.  I  resolved  to  rest  .it  it  on  our  return  from  up  the  Nile. 
And  now  I  am  writing,  I  tlinik.  in  one  of  three  rooms  in  which 
Bayard  Taylor  and  I  first  met.  It  may  be  fancy,  but  there 
is  pleasure  in  the  thought.  We  find  tile  (Oriental  .1  much  bet- 
ter house  than  Sliepiurd's  ;  charges  reasonable,  ami  no  disposi- 
tion to  stick  the  traveller  for  every  crust  taken  extra.  The  rooms 
arc  good,  and  the  attendance'  polite,  and  the  table  satisfactory. 
l''ashion  has  made  "  .Shepherd's  "  extortionate  and  presumptuous. 
We  had  there  poor  rooms  aiul  nasty  smells  and  an  impolite  clerk. 
I  commeml  to  .Americans  the  old  Orient.  It  is  charmingly 
situated. 

Since  our  return  we  have  been  busy  seeing  things.  We  spent 
a  day  in  the  Boolak  Museum  most  advantageously.  In  it  the 
.student  could  profitably  spend  weeks.  We  saw  the  mummies  of 
mighty  monarchs  who  ruled  nearly  4,000  years  ago,  and  monu- 
ments of  others  who  have  been  dead  5,000  years.  One  ciueen. 
who  died  over  3,000  years  ago,  was  covered  with  garlands  of 
flowers,  some  of  which  were  enough  preserved  to  show  their 
petals  anil  to  enable  us  to  recognize  the  flower.  In  one  bo.x  was 
a  ciuecn  and  her  little  babe.     They  have  not  been  unrolled  from 


■*y\ 


r 


f.  ^ 


I 


398 


^/  /fAC/;  WITH  TJIE  Sl'N. 


tliL-  liiK-n  in  whicli  tlicy  were  wrapped  over  3,000  years  afjo.  I  al- 
most lioped  that  it  was  a  sense  of  propriet)'  whicli  had  saved  the 
mother  and  child  from  the  desecration  of  such  exposure  to  the 
^aze  of  the  curious.  1  wondereil  if  she  had  liveil  to  look  upon  her 
little  one.  If  her  maternal  heart  had  heard  that  sweetest  of  all 
sounds  to  a  woman's  ear — her  babe's  first  faint  cry.  Had  it  been 
laiil  upon  her  warm  breast  ?  Had  she  felt  its  tiny  hands  upon  her 
clii'ek  or  dimpling'  her  soft  bosom?  Mad  she  uttered  that  softest 
and  ^^Mitlest  of  all  expressions — those  two  little  words  which  con- 
vey a  world  of  j-earnin^  and  of  love  whc  1  a  mother  first  says  to 
her  newly-born — "  My  baby  I  "  The  linen  enfoldinj^  her  was 
clean  and  almost  white.  Her  baby  lay  upon  her  feet.  I'or  3,0x1 
years  mother  and  child  have  thus  resteti.  Are  the  woman  ami 
child  yet  mother  and  babe  in  the  far-off  spirit  land?  There 
is  another  mother  and  babe  in  a  distant  ^rave — mother  antl  babe 
becoming,'  one  in  dust,  as  they  were  one  before  it  was  born.  If 
human  hands  could  but  lift  the  veil  which  hides  the  inscrutable  ! 
If  human  eyes  could  but  pierce  llie  measures  of  the  unfathomable  ! 
If  human  ears  could  but  catch  the  tones  uttered  beyond  illimitable 
space  !  Oh,  if  these  thint,'s  could  but  happen,  what  joy  might  sink 
into  the  soul  of  the  liviny. 


'(!,  ./; 


ll. 

lie 
lie 

ItT 

llll 

In 

Lr 

Ist 

111- 


CHAl'TEK   XXIX. 

Till,  Ml.i;— ol.I)  AM)  NKW  KGVI' l— KOVl'lTAN   MOUSKS— IIIK 

I'l.dKDIMi   DoNKF.V— KOKIilDDKN    l-Uf  II'— i:i  ;VI' 11  AN 

I'AU.MS— IIKADKKS   lUoM   AN   As>, 


Cairo,   Kf^ypt,  April  i6,   1888. 

On  the  30tliof  Marcli  we  tot^k  tlie  train  fur  Assyout.  250  miles 
up  the  Nile,  but  only  200  by  rail.  The  valley  of  the  Nile,  after 
(luittin^  the  delta,  is  rarely  over  tin  miles  wide,  aiul  is  frequentl)' 
much  narrower.  It  is  a  depression  in  the  mijjhty  desert,  wliicli 
stretches  from  the  Red  Sea  to  the  Atlantic,  a  distance  (jf  over 
3,CKXD  miles.  Probably  in  some  mi^dity  cataci)'sm  attendini^^  the 
ciiolin;^  of  tile  eartii's  crust  this  j,freat  valley,  i,,Soo  miles  Ioul,', 
dropped  down,  leaving  tiie  desert  above  on  either  siile.  The 
vallej'  at  the  "  i'^ayoom,"  some  50  miles  above  Cairo,  widens  to 
15  and  40  miles,  and  spreads  out  in  a  ^reat  triangle  at  the  delta, 
with  a  wide  plat  of  cultivable  lands  80  or  more  miles  across  at 
the  widest  j)oint  from  east  "^o  west.  The  entire  area  of  culti- 
vable fields  of  this  wonderfu.  countr)'  is  only  S.ooo  sijuare  miles, 
or  about  one  seventh  of  the  State  of  Illinois.  This  small  tract 
has  been  called  the  j^jranary  of  the  worki.  A  part  of  the  valley 
fjrows  one  ^ood  crop  from  the  moisture  left  by  the  inundation, 
which  begins  in  July  and  ends  in  October;  otlier  jjarts  which  can 
grow  nothing  without  irrigation  in  Lower  Kgyi)t,  grow  three, 
and  in  Upper  Kgypt,  two  crops  a  year.  A  great  part  of  the 
inundated  lands  is  sown  immediately  after  the  Nile's  retirement, 
and  then,  after  being  harvested,  a  second  crop  is  put  in  and 
ri])ened  before  the  next.  The  river,  when  within  its  banks,  is 
called  the  Low,  or  Little  Nile  ;  when  full  it  is  "  Tlu-  Nile."  Large 
canals  debouch  into  it  freciueiitly,  and  carry  its  waters  far  back. 
One  of  these  begins  at  Assyout,  and  extends,  with  another  name, 
nearly  300  miles  northward,  with  a  lateral  branch  some  30  miles, 
into  the  l"'ayoom.  Another  runs  from  Cairo  to  Ismalia  and  on 
to  .Suez.  These  are  all  in  parts  navigable,  but  were  built  and 
.ire  used  principally  for  irrigating  purposes.  The  main  ones  are 
full  at  all  times.  The  others  are  perfectly  dry  except  during 
high  Nile.  From  the  river,  from  the  canals,  and  from  wells, 
water  for  irrigation  is  taken.  One  feature  of  the  country  is  that 
water  is  found  everywhere  in  wells  at  a  depth  of  but  a  little, 
if  at  all,  lower  than  the  surface  of  the  river.     The  "  shadoof  "  is 

899 


'••1 


x\ 


\4\ 


\^tf\ 


300 


.•/   RACl   Wrril  T /-/.■■   SUuV. 


-iil 


m' 


the  old-fashioiicd  ;)i)lc  with  .i  weight  at  tlic  lar^c  oiul  ;  j^cncr.illy 
tliis  wci^'ht  is  a  mass  of  hard  chiy.  Tlic  pole  is  a  short  one,  iiftiiii; 
ciplit  to  twelve  feet.  As  the  river  falls  an  additional  shailoof  is 
put  in,  then  another.  At  tiiis  season,  on  the  the  Upjxr  Nile, 
there  are  thrte  or  lOnr  icts.  Tiie  first  one  isworkt'd  !)}•  oiu'  man, 
lifting  the  water  in  .i  cl<>s»-ly-woven  wicker  or  skin  basket,  four  to 
six  feet,  into  .i  tr-'nch.  This  runs  along  or  inti>  the  bank  tn  the 
next  shadoof,  coiuinoni>'  worked  by  two  men  with  a  i).iir  of 
poles,  lifting  eiglU  ^r  ten  leet,  and  so  on  till  the  level  of  the  l.md 
is  reached.  Then  the  Irrnches  leail  back  as  far  .is  re(|uired  — 
sometimes  a  mile  or  more.  The  "  sakeeyeii  "  m. ikes  the  lift  at 
once,  the  emlless  rope  witii  buckets  attached  (described  in  my 
last)  being  lengthened  a>  tiie  w.iter  falls.  1  have  seen  a  wheel 
in  I'pper  Mg.vpt  lifting  fiilU'  50  feet.  The  tl^w  into  the  wells  is 
hirge.  1  saw  one  ten  feet  in  diameter,  from  which  water  was 
being  lifteil  b\-  two  large  wheels  .it  once,  without  lowering  tin- 
well  surface,  in  Lower  Kgypt,  j)articularly  throughout  thetlelta, 
tlic  level  of  the  land  is  but  little  above  the  river,  and  there  tiie 
^IBtloof  is  rarel\-  seen  worked  in  sets,  .and  the  wlieeU  have  fre- 
(jutrnlly  the  buckets  attached  to,  or  directly  in.  the  rims  of  the 
wkiH.I.  The  de])ression  of  tht  valley  of  the  Nile  i  -.ives  a  line 
•rf  mils  or  low   mountaans,  running    in    a    more    or  less  broken 

on    either  side   of  the   -ivi  r,    now  (|uite   close    on  oik    side, 
or  eii;ht  miles  biick  or  th"    other.     Then,    again,  the  liver 

•nearh'  e(|u.ill\'  dist.int  lom  the  two  r.inges.  The  stie.im 
sktft!-  rts  lieil  more  or  U>s  fri>ni  year  to  j'l'ar,  and  in  the  cour-^c 
of  .::nntiiries  eh.inges  from  niie.ir  the  hill>  on  one  side  to  those 
<m  rill-  otlier.  Cities,  or  r.rcher  ruins  of  cities,  known  in  .mcient 
*•-"•  •<>  have  bieii  on  the  river,  are  now  miles  back,  and  the 
into  the  banks  1)\-  tii^  -ne.im  reveals  ft mndations  of  other 
utu.-.    ong  fjuried.  .uid  fretiuc-ntiy  etitirel)'  forgotten. 

Tu    ]\\\\-.    ir  rather  the  ilesert  cliffs,  v.iry  in    height,   hdm  Jcxi 
«r  r?.  Lower  Kgrpt.  to  (100  or  8cx)  in  I'pper.      I  thought 

■  iwixe.  a  lucb  an-  rather  bt>kl  mountains,  were  over  1,000  feet 
1^^  The-'*t  are  all  absolutely  barren  and  desolate  rocky  b.ir- 
rirrs,.  nnw  swiping  tow;inls  the  valley  in  steej)  inelines,  then  in 
whi'ii|tTl  fTo\Tmng  jirecipices.  In  the  latter,  however,  the  f.dling 
Ab11i^.  throiiiii'n  the  ages,  have  left  sloping  inclines  of  pure  s.iiu', 
more  or  le!r-  iiigii  up  from  the  level  laiiil.  The  rocks  comi)(>'; 
ing  these  meimtains  or  hills  are,  for  over  300  (perhajjs  400)  miles 
above  Cairo,  i  species  of  limestone,  containing  pebbles  and  cob- 
bles of  roun'ceil  flintstoiie  ;  then  on  to  the  l'"irst  Catar.ict  they 
are  mostly  a  gra_\-  or  yelIf)W-gray  sandstone  ;  .it  Assouan.  .1  red 
granite  or  syenite.  (This  name  originates  in  tlu'  .mcient  city  ot 
.Syene.  built  .ibout  the  l""irst  C.it.iract.)  This  >toiu  has  there  burst 
through  the  -.nidstone  overhing.  Looking  from  the  v.illeys,  oiu- 
woulil  think  tlu-  inouiuains  were  in  a  succession  of  ranges,  one 
behind  tht   .>ther,  whereas  in  f.ict  the  desert  runs  back,  rather  mi 


•muTT**-^ 


THE  OLD  AM)   THE  A  Jill    //JJ-:.\  7VC.I/.. 


301 


'y 

is 
c, 

n, 

to 
Ic 
-f 


a  level  witli  wliat  appears  t<»  be  tlie  top  of  tlic  r.m^c — runs  back, 
not  as  a  flat  of  tablr-laiul,  but  iine\'enl}  uiuiulatinj,'.  a/ul  fre- 
(juently  quite  broken.  I-rom  what  1  saw  from  the  tops  of  the 
iioi'fjilits  we  climbed,  ami  what  I  ct)iikl  ^'athcr  from  otliers.  there 
is  very  little  of  the  desert  which  approaches  .1  flat  table-land.  It 
is  all  in  hollows  and  hillocks,  .iiul  rolls  often  <|iiite  ru^jjedly.  It 
was  news  to  me,  and  ])ri)babiy  will  be  to  otliLr>,  that  the  oasis 
of  the  deserts  are  depressions,  as  is  the  Nile  X'alley^ — ilepressions 
ill  some  cases,  probabl)'  in  all,  eviMi  to  a  lower  level  tlhui  tiiat  of 
the  Nile  \'alle\'.  In  some  ■  I  ihem,  when  a  well  is  du<,',  tiie  water 
bubbles  up  and  runs  over  tlii:  brim,  Jiivinjj  irrij^ation  without  a 
lift.  Whence  is  the  source  of  these  sjirini^'s  in  the  desj-rt  ?  I 
find  there  are  occasional  rains  in  those  part--  whicii  m.ir^in  the 
valley,  ami  some  of  them  ipiite  heavy,  for  they  leave  lieep 
water-worn  marks  in  the  torreiit-beils  running;  down  the  ^''^l-ies. 
1  suspect  the  rains  extend  over  a  l.u-.je  p.irt  of  the  Sahar.i  .md 
.\r,djian  deserts.  The)'  sink  into  the  s.mds,  .md  enouj^li  remain 
unev.iporated  below  for  the  suppl)'  of  the  few  springs  e.\i:itin^, 
and  for  the  wells  aloni;  the  Nile  X'alley.  These  wells,  by  tiie 
way,  lie  priiici|)ally  back  from  the  river  .iiul  ne.ir  th ■•  hills. 

( )ur  run  In-  r.iil  to  Ass\  out  and  b.ick  i,'ave  us  .i  fine  opportunity 
for  secinjj  many  farming  operations  wliich  river  travel  does  not 
afford,  and  our  subse(]ucnt  examiiiatirjus  of  the  picture -c.irvin^ 
upon  the  walls  of  the  tombs  .it  Luxor  .uid  otiier  j)Iace-  showecl 
U''  how  little  of  change  in  the  domestic  and  economic  life  of  the 
l)eople.  thousands  of  )'ears  have  l)rou;^dit.  The  >aiiie  wooden 
l)low,  with  its  siiij^le  handle,  its  simple  share,  and  its  manner  of 
att.ichnu'iit  to  the  o\  by  ,1  strai^dit  \>>ke  uitlK>ut  bow<,  is  seen  in 
tile  SI  ulplui'ed  clumbers  of  tin-  dead  of  30  odd  centuries  ajio.and 


III 
the 


the  I 


leld 


of  the  I'ellaheen  to-(la\'.     The  working  Arab,  intieed 


le  counti)'  .111(1  \ilia;^re  ptas,intr\ 


lUS, 


in  coiitiMdislinctioii  to  the 


-  lalletl  ••  l-'ellaheeii,"  or 
IJedaween."  or  wanderiiiLT 


Aiab>,  of  the  desert.  The  s.mn-  iiitim.icy  exists  between  the 
pe.isantr\"  and  theilomestic  .minials  ■!>  >een  in  the  painted  relievos 
on  the  tomb  of  the  priest  .it  .S.ikkara.  .is  in  the  city  .md  villa;;e  **{ 
to-d.iy.  A  man  ilrives  his  <;eese  alon;^  the  jiictured  limestone 
rock  in  a  ileep  cave,  whose  existence  was  liiddeii  by  VOOO  ye.u-.  of 
accumulated    s.iiul.     A    111. iii    in    llowinj;  robe   .md  Heavy  turban 


ri\is  tlirou'di    Cairo 


streets  a  tlock  whicli  mi''lit  havt    sat  as 


models  bi-fore  the  ;Tcist  who  died  before  Moses  ])Iaye<i  liis  ^ame 
of  hide  and  seek  in  the  bulhushes.  The  fell.ih  ilij^s  up  the  sand 
for  his  melon-liilt  with  .1  short  wooden  hoe.  which  cm  be  dupli- 
cated in  the  iiool.ik  .Museum  from  .1  lot  <»f  implement-,  du^^  iij)  by 
Mariette  with  its  owner,  whose  mummy  commenced  ^'.irdening 
before  Joshua  blew  down  Jericlio's  wall  witli  the  bass  note  of  a 


ram  s  horn. 


A 


woman  ^race 


fullv 


carries. 


poi 


se<l  on  her  head,  an 


earthen  jar.  lioldiii|.;  fi\e  or  six  ^.illoiis  of  water,  ju-t  .is  her  ^^rand- 
niother  of  the  hundred  and  ei^,'htieth  generation  is  seen  doiny;  in  a 


■d 


M  :■■, 


I 


n 


in 


I! 

t.  r 


303 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


lit 


nil 


ii 


i!^ 


tomb  chiselled  by  vanity  in  the  rock  noi  lon;^  iiftcr  the  flood.  A 
brickmaker  molds  his  brick  in  a  sinyle  mold,  which  he  places  on 
the  smooth  {ground,  then  works  up  his  mud  with  his  hand, 
sprinkles  a  little  water  over  the  dou^jh,  and  cl.ips  it  tlowii  into  the 
mold,  lifts  the  mold  up,  ami  so  proceeds  to  make  others  until  In's 
row  is  finished.  He  is  squattinj;;  on  his  hauiiches  while  he  works, 
and  the  bricks  are  then  left  to  dry.  and  are  built  unburned  into 
tin  wall ;  ami  if  a  lar^e  brick  be  needed,  he  mi.xes  straw  with  the 
mud,  doini;  it  all  in  the  self-same  manner  shown  in  the  tombs  to 
have  been  followed  by  that  son  of  Israel  whose  idleness  brought 
on  the  blow  from  his  master,  which  aroused  Moses'  Irish,  and 
caused  I'.im  to  do  the  smiti'i;^  which  made  him  escape  a  thnishiuL; 
by  tl'.e  flight  into  the  wilderness.  The  result — the  theology  whicli 
ha«".  regenerated  the  western  world.  The  farm  laborer  squats, 
now,  as  in  the  dead  past,  down  on  the  ground  to  reap  the  ri])e 
wheat  with  .1  su  kle  not  eight  inches  long,  g.tthering  it  to  him  by 
the  handful.  I'ull-robcil  Hoaz  is  seen  standing  about  in  patri- 
archal ilignity,  while  his  labo'-ers  work,  and  Ruth  gleans  a  few 
fallen  heatis.  Ruth,  however,  now  rarely  finds  favor  in  Uoaz's 
sight,  for,  un'').-'  Iier  predecessor,  she  is  not  comely.  All  the 
comely  Rutiis  are  picked  \.\\)  when  they  are  10  to  \2  years  old. 
The  harvested  grain  is  carrietl  to  the  threshing-ground  on  camels, 
oxen,  and  donkeys,  ,ind  there  it  is  threshed  out  by  o.xen  drawing 
.1  sort  of  slid  with  a  roller  betwei.n  the  runners.  I'his  w.is.  .iiul  is, 
drawn  rounil  and  round,  threshing  out  the  kernel  and  breaking 
the  straw.  The  chaff  is  winnoweil  out  b>'  throwing  it  up  to  be 
blown  away  by  the  breeze.  Tlu-  broken  straw  is  then  piled  up 
about  tlu'  \illage  until  it  is  eaten  by  the  cattle.  There  is  no  r.iin 
to  hurt  it,  though  it  lies  in  an  uncovered  pile  for  months.  Tliree- 
thousand-year-old  I\g\i)tians  are  doing  the  self-same  things  on  the 
walls  of  the  scul])tured  tombs.  A  large  niMiiber  of  tlic  liired 
laborers  carry  home  on  their  heads,  or  their  wives  do,  a  certain 
number  of  sheaves,  the  wages  for  the  day's  work.  This  they 
thresh  out  carefully,  and  store  it  away  in  earthen  jars.  I'-ach 
hoi:sehold  grinds  its  own  corn  or  wheat  on  two  millstones — tiie 
under  one  about  two  feet  across,  the  upper  three  or  four  inches 
less.  A  woman  squats  by  these,  turns  the  u])per  on  the  lower  one, 
and  feeds  them  b_\'  dropping  a  small  h.mtlful  of  grain  into  a  hole  nn- 
tiing  through  the  u]iper  stone.  .She  does  this  to-day  itreciselj'.i-^  the 
contemporar_\'  of  I'h.iroah's  daughter  is  seen  iloing  it  on  pictured 
tomb  walls.  The  flour  or  meal  ]iassesout  upon  the  margin  of  the 
lower  stone,  and  is  raked  off  with  the  hand.  This  is  baked  into 
thiti  cakes  of  unleavened  bread.  .Sculptureil  or  |)ainteil  ])iclures 
in  a  tomb  at  Assouan,  lately  opened,  showed  all  of  these  things 
were  done  in  selfsame  manner  3.400.  and  over,  years  ago.  The 
oven  in  which  the  baking  is  done  is  heated  by  burning  buffalo- 
chips  and  cow-co.d.  <  )ne  c.in  occasionally  see  shreds  of  the  coal 
sticking  into  the  underside  of  the  cake.     That  happens  when  the 


-^gUmass.-^ 


A 
on 

Hi. 

he 

lis 
;s, 
to 

10 

fo 

It 


THE  EGYPTIAN  HOUSE. 


303 


cow  failed  to  sufficiently  masticate  her  fodder.     It  does  not  hurt 
the  bread,  for  fire  is  a  purifier. 

The  people  all  live  in  villages.  These  arc  on  eminences  of 
a  few  feet,  made  by  the  debris  of  towns  .vliich  have  melted 
down.  For  countless  aj^cs  unburnt  brick  lui-;  been  used.  Asa 
house  tumjales  it  raises  a  foundation  for  the  succceihni;  house. 
Nothing  can  be  .'tiorc  unattractive  than  an  Egyptian  village— a 
mass  of  mud  wal's  on  narrow  in-and-out,  crooked  alley-..  A  space 
of  60  feet  square  is  surrounded  by  a  wall  eight  to  ten  feet  high. 
Cross-walls  are  built  within,  dividing  the  square  ii  to  three,  finir, 
or  more  compartments,  with  doorwaj's  opening  one  into  another. 
One  or  tv.-o  of  these  comprise  wh.at  may  he  called  a  house.  Some 
of  these  compartments  arc  covered  over  with  long  millet  or  iloura 
straw,  laid  loosely--  not  laid  to  keep  out  lain,  but  for  shade.  In 
the  other  compartments  the  cattle  are  housed  or  cv)rralled,  and 
the  little  worldly  wealth  consisting  of  a  few  farm  ininlements  and 
large  earthen  jar:-,  for  holding  grain,  are  stored.  An  olil  broken 
jar  or  a  hole  in  the  wall  is  the  only  cupbo.ird.  There  are  no  [)ed- 
steads,  tables,  or  chairs  in  the  establishments.  The  people  hleep 
on  the  ground,  eitlier  in  the  covereil  rooms  or  in  the  outer  com- 
partments or  little  courts,  or  along  the  w.Uls  in  the  narrow  streets 
or  alleys.  The  men  seem  to  do  this  latter — the  women  and  chil 
dren  being  within.  I  refer  of  course,  to  the  abodes  of  the  |)oor 
people.  Some  of  tlie  better  off,  even  in  villages,  have  their  houses 
covered  with  mud.  On  the  side  of  all  house  ;  the  refuse  of  anim.ils 
is  dried  in  cakes  about  the  size  of  dinner  plates  for  fuel.  I-Odder 
and  fuel  are  .stacked  on  the  roof.  Chickens,  goats,  and  dogs  are 
constantly  seen  on  the  roof  or  walking  ,dong  the  w.ills  of  the 
open  courts. 

The  people  are  jnior,  but  look  neither  sullen  nor  unhappy. 
Thc\'  like  better  to  work  with  energy  on  oild  jobs  than  to  plod  at 
regular  labor.  The  fa/nis  of  individu.d  owners  are  small — f've  to 
twc  .ty  acres,  There  are  great  numbers  'of  cattli-,  goats,  and  many 
sheep  and  donkeys.  .  Vmong  the  cattle  are  many  buffalo.  There 
is  no  such  thing  as  regular  pastur(,-s  for  gr.i/.ing.  After  the  fit-Ids 
have  been  harvested  the\' .ire'  grizeil  over  until  the  Last  str.iw  and 
almost  the  very  riiots  of  -asses  and  weeil)'  plants  h.ive  been 
eaten  out.  Goats  and  sheep  feed  on  the  .scant  vegetation  to  be 
found  on  the  edge  of  the  desert  .and  aboiit  ruins.  C.ittle,  how- 
ever, do  not  depend  on  this  sort  of  grazing,  but  feed  on  clover, 
vetch,  beans,  and  peas,  planted  and  cultivated  for  the  purpose. 
They  are  either  tethered  or  a.ie  strictly  w. itched,  and  forced  to 
graze  small  plats  close  into  the  ground,  and  then  moved  to  a  new 
plat.  The  donke)'  is  sceii  everywhere.  Camels  are  principally 
used  for  carrjing  the  bulk  of  the  crt)p  in  middle  and  upper  Kgypt 
from  the  fields  to  the  farmyards,  and  bullocks  and  cows  do  the 
plowing;  the  little,  patient  ass  i-;  the  common  drudge.  He  is  like 
the  inaid-of-all-work  in  ai^  Knglish  hash  bo.irding-house.    There  is 


:.  ^.m-^ 


I 


■^  m 


t '« 


i'i 


i' " ". 


.104 


A  RACE  WJTH  THE  SUN. 


nothing;  ho  cannot  be  made  to  take  a  hand  at.  He  is  steed  for 
man  and  woman.  As  siicli  he  is  jfcncrally  ridden  without  briiile 
or  saddle,  except  in  the  cities,  and  tiien  tlie  spindle  shanks  of  the 
riiler  danijle  tlown  with  rarely  the  foot  in  the  stirrup,  and  the  reins 
lie  loose,  the  animal  bein^^  jjuided  In-  a  stick  in  the  rider's  liand, 
or  l)y  the  boy  who  runs  behind.  The}'  carry  hu<;e  loads  of  f;rass, 
or  monster  baj^s  of  chaff,  cut  straw,  or  other  lij^ht  niaterial,  hiding 
all  l)ut  the  ears  and  a  little  p.irt  of  the  rear  anatomy,  left  for 
cutU(ellintj.  The  canul,  when  loadtd  with  wheat,  looks  likeaj^ooii- 
sized  stack  of  straw  w.ilkin^  on  stilts — all  else  is  hidden,  except 
his  bird-like  heatl.  which  is  always  movinjj  and  pcerinij  from  side 
to  side. 

Of  late  )-ears  the  Khedive  has  tried  to  introiluce  a  lar^'c  cultiva- 
tion of  sn^ar-cane.  and  to  encouras^e  it,  erected  some  50  lar^'c 
suLjar  manufactories  aloni;  the  Nile.  More  tlian  half  of  them  are 
idli-.  ( )ne  of  the  ^Mxat  features  of  the  vill;i^a>  an'  the  tall  pij^eon 
towers.  Tliese  are  turrel-Iookini(  structures,  IJ  to  15  feet  stpi.ire, 
and  20  to  30  hi^di.  The\-  are  the  reall)'  aristocratic  buiklini^s  of 
the  villapfe.  1  counted  50  odd  of  them  in  a  pi. ice  of  not  over  4cx3 
population.  The  pit^eons  nest  in  and  roost  on  and  about  them, 
their  droppinij;s  Ljoinj;  through  a  gratin;^  to  be  gathered  as  gu.mo. 
They  arc  kejU  for  this  purpose.  1  was  tokl  that  one  village  ue 
saw  had  :73o,tX)0.  It  is  a  mooted  (piestioM  if  they  do  not  eat  more 
gr.iin  th.in  they  are  worth.  The  whe.it  is  left  standing  until  de.id- 
ripe,  and  consecjuently  much  is  shattered  ou'.  Wheat-straw  is 
\ery  coarse,  ami  nearly  as  h.ird  and  strong  as  reeds.  In  being 
threshed  under  the  roller-sleil  it  is  mashed,  and  thereby  made 
fitter  for  fodder. 

When  we  left  Cairo  the  wheat-Iields  were  just  yellowing,  and 
much  w.is  )et  green.  It,  t>)gcthLr  with  .lie  clover  .iiul  vetch  and 
peas,  gave  a  \'ariegated  carpet  to  the  plains.  The  clumps  of  stately 
ilate  trees  ari-  so  freijuent  ne.ir  Cairo  ih.il.  logftlur  with  the 
occasional  acacias,  they  frequently  afford  ,in  .dmost  wooded  land- 
'^c ape.  looked  at  from  the  level.  As  we  appro.iched  Ujipe'r  I''.g[)yt, 
the  fields  were  more  )'ellow  and  the  h.irvest  was  begun,  and  great 
peripatetic  stacks  of  .straw  were  moving  in  different  directions 
along  the  narrow  j),iths  on  camels  and  sm.ill  oius  on  donkeys. 

At  Assyout  we  bearded,  at  night,  a  little  flat-bottomed  steam- 
boat, oiil)-  (JO  feet  long,  aiul  drawing  two  ;ind  .1  half.  When  we 
woke  up  in  th'-  morning  we  ^^•ere  upon  the  most  famous  river  of 
the  V.  Olid,  and  steaming  toward  that  point  which  has  been  so 
often  iiujuired  for  and  sought,  but  wiinly  sought,  for  thousands  o.f 
\  ears — the  source  of  "  1  Ik  Nile  "  (or  "  the  river").  There  were  five 
first-class  passengers  ;  three  enthusiastic  young  Americans  -w/rt,^''- 
iia  pars  fui — .iiul  two  F.ngli-hmen,  (^"ol.  IIarrington-Hi:y  and  Mai. 
Marrice-He)',  of  the  mount.'d  police.  The  n.itional  jiolice  is  a 
milit.iry  organization,  officer<'d  by  I'.nglishmen,  .ind  i'-  divided  into 
four  den.irtmeiits,  the  he.ul  of  each  be.\ring  the  title  of  ]);ish,i,  tiie 


«wiFi  nil  Til  «•»  'i«»ftrff« 


FORBIDDEN  FRUIT. 


305 


next  two  being  beys.  Our  liltle  boat  Ircqiiciitly  l)um]icil  plump 
atjaiiist  saiul-bars,  toppling  us  over,  but  01. ly  causing;  a  laugli,  all 
liie  greater  when  once  it  emptied  soup  into  a  lap.  An  awning 
covered  the  top  of  the  boat,  but  the  reflected  sun  w.is  too  fierce 
to  permit  its  shade  to  be  a  pleasant  loungingplace  after  nine 
o'clock,  It,  liovvever,  was  a  sufficient  jjrotection  to  enable  us  to 
go  up  for  a  few  mir.utes  when  passing  any  scenery  or  spot  we 
wished  to  carefully  observe  over  tiio  high  banks. 

The  river  cuts  it.-,  way  between  banks  20  or  so  feet  high  ;  is 
from  a  liltle  over  a  quarter  of  a  mile  t(j  three  quart'.-rs  wide,  and 
flows  steadily,  with  a  current  in  low  water  of  three  miles  an  hour. 
It  shifts  its  bed  gradually  from  one  side  to  the  other,  now  cutting 
into  the  bl.ick,  sandy  loam  on  the  one  sitle,  exposing  now  and 
then  the  foundations  of  towns  buried  ages  ago,  and  making  s.md- 
bars  on  the  other,  which  are  utilized  by  the  natives  for  melon- 
])atches  as  the  water  recedes.  Where  these  b.irs  are  of  too  clean 
a  sand  for  a  growth,  a  little  loam  from  'he  debri:;  of  villages  and 
ruins,  full  of  nitre,  is  carried  on  the  patient  little  donkey.  The 
winds  pouring  steadily  up  or  down  the  river  are  so  stmng  that  the 
s.inds  are  woven  into  pretty,  wavy  lines,  ami  would  cover  the 
])lantations  of  melons.  To  prevent  thi-,  barriers  are  made  by 
sticking  rows  of  doura-stalks  or  palm  fronds,  from  a  few  inches  to 
two  or  three  feet  high,  on  the  windward  sitle  of  each  row  of 
young  plants.  Near  C.iiro  ilie  seeds  were  1  'ing  planrted  ;  about 
.\ssou.in  the  melon  hills  were  green  and  the  [)lants  in  bloom.  I 
heaved  many  a  sign  when  looking  upon  the  yet  fruitless  vines,  for 
I  am  so  fund  of  watermelons  that  I  have  a  susjMcion  that  if  my 
f.unily  tree  were  closely  .scrutinized,  down  among  its  primitive 
roots,  would  be  found  some   Ethiopian  kinks. 

By  the  way,  we  had  a  family  of  natives  in  one  of  the  rooms. 
There  w<  re  three  ladies,  closely  veiled  in  flowing  bl.ick  silken 
'•  bourkos."  which  wen-  never  removed  outside  of  their  own  rooms. 
-Sweet  is  forbidden  fruit!  The  bc-ys  were  constantly  on  the  watch 
to  catcli  a  glimpse  of  these  bundled  up  houris.  The  rooms  of  the 
little  steamer  open  only  on  the  guards.  i»vie  day  a  gust  of  wiml 
blew  a  bourko  aside.  The  boys  s.uv  wit-inn  the  pe.irly  gate,  and 
!<>!  the  sweet  vision  was  of  a  face  as  black  as  the  ace  of  s])ades ! 
I  read  to  my  disappointed  lads  a  lecture  upon  the  folly — not  to 
say  criminality — of  attempting  to  rend  a  veil  over  whicjj  wa-^ 
written  "  inirare  tion."  We  saw  very  many  Aia])ian  Rachels  witli 
their  flocks  of  goats  ibout  the  nver  banks,  or  truilging  over  the 
broad  sand-bur--  with  huge  earthern  jaf  of  water  on  their  heads, 
wending  their  way  tow.r  '  the  vill.igc><.  most  of  which  lie  back 
^)me  ilistanc-  from  the  .  '  tdge,  but  never  a  Jacob  .a-jsisting 
them.  The  iart  that  Jacob  di(.  assist  fair  and  lovely  R.-K'hel  is 
I)roof  positive  of  direct  divine  interference.  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
Jacob  were  ,\r,ibs  of  the  (tlesert.  and  would  never  have  given  a 
helping   hand    to   a   woinan   if    the   Lord  had  not  direct'y  com- 


'M 


II:  , 


•^m 


=.ii 


v, 


u. 


S 


■I   » 


M   ,1 


!SRR^H 


306 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


mandi-'cl  it.  Tlu;  wnm.ui  of  the  East  docs  not  imw  pray  to  tin- 
master,  the  Lord,  but  to  tlie  master,  tlie  man,  and  so  the  Lord  h.is 
deserted  her,  and  tlie  master  man  pays  but  little  attention  to  her, 
c.vci  jiL  when  her  comely  face  finds  temporary  favor  in  his  si^ht. 
iler  beaut}-,  too,  is  usually  of  such  a  character  that  it  does  not 
dune  forth  until  after  the  sun  has  <:;f)ne  down. 

We  liatl  down  below,  anionic  the  L^ciu-ral  deck  passenj^ers,  many 
well-to-do  natives  returniiiLj  fmrn  the  city,  where  tluy  had  been 
to  i)urchase  their  stock  of  goods.  It  was  interestiuj^  to  watch 
them  when  iandinj;  for  some  larije  town  standint;  a  mile  or  so 
back,  ''rancinc;  hor-~es,  some  in  velvet  caparison,  others  in  simple 
cloth,  some  with  partly  gilded  bridles,  others  plain  ;  ilonkeys  in  rod 
trappings,  and  d<'nvvys  without  saddle  or  bridle,  were  on  the  high 
bank  to  take  ti':,  travellers  home.  Turbaned  men  in  silken 
robes,  turbaned  men  in  cotton  mbes,  woukl  clind)  steej)  banks 
with  their  wealth.  There  would  be  clatter  and  ni'i-,c  enough  for 
the  dis"mbarkation  of  a  western  regiment.  The  rich  woidd  mount 
their  neighing  steeil'^,  the  poorer  would  pile  their  i)luiider  upon 
tlie  naked  donkeys,  and  then  perch  themselves  on  to])  of  all.  Some 
little  brute  would  be  slightly  unruh';  a  blow  would  fall  about  his 
ears;  he  would  dodge  and  interpose  I:.s  convenient  rear.  If  in 
turning  he  caught  sight  of  a  lady  donkey,  he  would  bray  out  one 
01  his  most  touching  love  -ongs.  The  gallantry  of  the  donke\' 
cannot  be  tamed  b\'  cuffs  or  blows.  Then  the  motle}' crowtl  wouKl 
start  ;  the  steeds  careering,  the  donkeys  under  saddle  galloping, 
those  under  1  'ads  single  footing  it,  and  off  they  woukl  dash 
through  a  cloud  of  dust,  which  would  mark  the  well-worn  path  to 
the  village. 

Sometimes  on  a  landing  barge  there  was  a  native  soldier  about 
to  depart  after  a  furlough.  Malf-veilcd  women  would  gather 
about  him,  ]ierhaps  his  mother  and  sisters  or  wife.  One  would 
press  upon  him  a  cake,  another  wf)uld  l)rush  some  dirt  from  his 
uniform.  The  mother  would  lay  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 
Her  dark  eyes  would  melt  beneath  the  openings  of  her  bourko  as 
slic  looked  lovingly  upon  her  soldier-boy  and  poured  wonl-^ 
of  love  into  his  ears.  Ah,  deeper  far  tlian  Joseph's  well  at  (  airo 
is  the  unfathomable  well  of  a  mother's  love.  Its  fountains  How 
steadily,  whether  the  mother  be  Hindoo  or  Buddhist,  Moh.unme- 
idan,  Jew,  or  Christian.  It  flows  from  a  fathomless  fountain 
beneath  the  throne  of  eternal  love.  I""ormcrly  an  Egyptian  bade 
an  adieu  forever  to  his  home  when  he  was  conscripted.  Now, 
under  English  control,  the  conscript  has  an  occasional  furlough. 
and  a  mother's  love  lives  in  the  reasonable  hope  of  again  seeing 
her  boy.     England  is  a  hard  taskinistress,  but  she  is  not  savage. 

About  Assouan  the  granite  was  belched  through  the  sandstone, 
wiicn  the  crust  fell  in  U)  make  the  v.illey.  This  granite  is  red 
.syenite,  but  along  the  river  it  is  blackened  and  in  fantastic  forms, 
And  is  in  rounded,  smooth,  water-worn  inasscs,  thrown  in  among  the 


SHOOTING   THE  CATARACT. 


307 


many  clianncls  of  tlic  cataracts.  It  looks  as  if  it  had  been  hlack- 
ciu'(.l  with  coal  tar  and  then  polished.  The  .scenery, about  tiie 
cataracts  and  just  below  is  very  wild,  and  yet  very  pretty.  The 
reil  and  ycliow-Ljray  rocks  above,  the  shininij  bl.ick,  sniootii,  mon- 
ster rocks  l)elow,  and  rushin^f  between  them  the  wild  waters  in 
frothy,  hurrying  rapids  ;  here  in  lifted  but  unbrcjken  stream.s, 
now  in  foaming,'  cascade,  then  in  whirling  eddies.  We  came 
down  the  catar.ict  in  a  boat  of  si.\  oars,  with  a  cooMieaded  "  reis" 
at  the  helm.  Now  we  shot  v  )wn  one  fall,  then,  caught  by  an 
cdd\-,  would  be  carried  sideways  toward  the  ne.st.  With  a  hard 
helm,  however,  and  one  range  of  oars  pulled  by  cpiick,  maidy 
energj',  our  prow  would  be  pointed  into  the  lifted  channel.  Down 
it  we  shot  like  an  arrow  from  a  bow,  and  came  (uit  with  a  wild 
yell.  At  one  point  we  were  very  nearly  forced  sideways  down. 
The  channel  was  not  two  feet  wider  than  owk  boat  was  long.  We 
touchetl  one  rocky  edge,  the  oarsmen  were  thrown  from  their 
seats,  and  we  missed  a  ducking  by  the  skin  of  our  teeth. 

On  our  way  up,  wlien  we  reached  Mdfoo  there  were  no  saddled 
donkeys  for  us  to  ride  to  the  temple,  two  or  three  miles  off.  so  we 
mounted  some  baretvicked  fellows,  and  without  bridles  ilashed 
over  the  little  paths  hke  three  wild  boys.  It  was  a  jolly  riile. 
One  of  the  brutes  fell,  and  Johnny  went  tumbling  over  a  b.mk. 
Our  laugh  was  turned  upon  us  afterward.  I'lU'  on  reathing 
Luxor,  at  1 1  o'clock  at  night,  we  took  ;i  moonlight  run  to  Karnak 
on  illy-provideil  asses.  Willie  that  night  got  a  header.  When 
we  returned  from  up-country  my  ilonkey  fell  flat  at  nearly  the 
same  spot.  Not  only  tlid  I  roll  off  over  his  head,  but  in  the 
tunible  somehow  found  myself  lying  somehow  on  one  "(  the 
brute's  hind  legs,  while  his  other  heel  was  giving  fearful  premoni- 
tions of  his  intention  to  give  mc  a  round  of  kicks.  Honors  were 
thus  even  ;  we  each  had  a  header  from  an  Egyptian  ass. 


f  H'i 
J,;. 


';, .  \ 


\:a 


.  m 


;, 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


i  ' 


DR.    SCHLIEM.XNN— THKHKS;    IIS   TKMI'I.KS   AND   TOMIIS— BEAUTI- 
l-LI.    rUllRK-WKITINi;— A    NATIVK    FKASP. 


w 


\x 


.V    i: 


Steams  flip  '^  C/iiukic,"  April  19,  1888. 

We  are  aboard  the  Khedive's  ist-stcainer,  having  sailed  from 
Alexandria  yeslerda)',  and  wii.  arrive  at  Athens  to-nmrrow. 
I  would  not  attempt  another  letter  about  Kgxpt  if  I  ilid  not 
feel  it  a  duty  to  do  .so.  It  is  not  an  agreeable  tiling  to  write  in  a 
shaky  boat,  but,  after  all,  those  are  not  the  most  vaiu.ible  occupa- 
tions which  are  most  agreeable  in  the  perform. nice,  unless  thc 
mere  doin;^  a  duty  be  of  itself  agreeable.  I  have  come  to  regard 
the  noting  down  of  what  I  sec  on  my  "  race  with  the  sun  "  as  ;i 
positive  duty,  and  therefore  productive  of  a  real  pleasure.  We 
have  a  pleasant  company  abroad,  amonj4  them  Dr.  .Schliemanii, 
the  famous  excavator,  and  Dr.  \'irchow,  consulting  physician  of 
the  Emperor  Frederick.  The  fust  is  an  active,  fussy  little  man 
of  over  70,  full  of  chat  and  energy,  whose  delight  is  to  wurm  in 
the  gi\nnu!  in  search  of  antiquities  having  not  only  arch;eological 
value,  but  also  capable  of  bringing  in  good  goKien  Napoleons. 
He  looks  like  an  honest  Deutcher  who  gains  his  living  by  digging 
for  mangel-wurzel  rather  than  for  dead  men's  l)ones  and  chiselled 
dreams;  in  fact,  more  like  a  gardener  than  a  virtuoso.  He  walks 
about  the  deck  with  Herodolas  ii  ihe  original  under  his  arm  ;  is 
proud  of  being  a  German  by  birth  and  yet  an  American  citizi;n  who 
never  went  through  the  forms  of  being  n.ituralizeil.  He  was  in 
California  when  it  was  annexeil,  and  became  a  citizen  b)-  virtue 
of  the  annexation.  He  and  Virchow  have  been  in  Egypt  in 
search  of  the  tomb  of  Alexander  the  Great,  but  did  not  find  it. 
He  is  ready  to  give  information  on  any  subject  he  knows  of,  and 
will  fight  any  one  who  doubts  the  individuality  and  identity  of 
Homer.  He  vowed  he  would  not  take  a  wife  to  his  bosom  until 
he  could  find  one  who  could  recite  the  whole  Iliad.  His  bright 
young  Greek  wife  does  repeat  it  b\'  the  yard,  and  uiulerstands  it, 
but  his  'ooatman  repeats  for  him  at  large,  although  he  (the  boat- 
man) does  not  comprehend  any  thing  else  than  the  euphony  and 
rhythm  of  the  mighty  bard.  The  doctor  lives  in  a  veritable 
palace  in  Athens,  surmounted  with  marble  statues,  and  over 
whose  doors  is  carved  in  Greek  :  "  The  tent  of  Ilion." 

308 


KAA'X.ih'  /fV  MOONLIGHT.     THEBES. 


309 


I  said  in  my  last  that,  as  travellers  in  IC^'spt  went  ii|i  tlic  Nile 
only  for  the  ruins,  they  had  not  prepared  ine  for  its  rich  scenery. 
Althoiii^h  I  showeil  my  ai)i)cciation  of  this,  )et  I  do  not  wish  one 
to  think  I  was  oblivious  to  the  wonders  left  by  art  thousands  of 
years  a^'o.  We  had  not  the  time  to  study  these  wonders,  but 
have  prepared  ourselves  for  studyiiv^f  llu  in  hereafter  more  inteili- 
^uMitly  from  books.  W'c  first  lookeil  upon  massive  Karnak  by  the 
full  lii,dit  of  the  moon.  It  seemed  a  fitlinj^  thinj^  to  wander 
amon.L,^  those  vast  stones  almost  as  massive  as  mountain  ribs;  to 
huj;e   columns,  v.ist  j-et   rich  in  architectural 


roam    anion;. 


thi 


form  ;  to  lose  one's  self  in  tiie  deep  shadows  of  the  old  temple 
to  lean  a[,Minst  the  lofty  obelisks,  whose  points  seem  to  pierce  the 
(U'cp-bhie  sky, — it  seemed  fitting;,  I  say,  to  be  in  this  hoini-  of 
^'ray  aiiti([uily  in  the  hour  of  midni^dit.  when  the  world  wa.s 
asleep;  when  the  self-samo  stars  were  peepini,'  throuL;h  clefts  in 
cornice  and  crevasse  in  architrave,  which  had  looked  silentl\-down 
\\\y.i\\  the  mass  when  it  was  new  and  fiesli,  o\ir  30  centuries  aj^o ; 
when  the  (pieen  of  ni^dit  was  balhin;^  all  in  silvery  li^dit,  and  yet 
leaving  the  ra.aLjes  of  man,  tinu-,  and  the  Nile  somewhat  con- 
cealed. Karnak  is  a  ruin, — not  a  half-ilestroyed  temple,  as  most 
pictures  portray  it.  It  was  oiice  a  f;rou])  of  noble  temples,  cover- 
in^r_  with  their  louir  avenues  of  colossal  sphinxes,  many  hundred 
acres.  I'arts  of  several  of  them  still  e.\ist,  massive  ami  ^ran.d.  but 
simply  fr.iijments,  which  en.ible  the  r.rch.eolo^ist  alone  to  trace 
out  from  lluin  the  foumlatioiis  of  the  liuildin^s  of  which  they 
formed  onl)'  small  parts.  All  of  these  massive  fni^'inents,  consist- 
in|4  of  propykiM  ^)uter  fjates),  of  niassive  walls  and  fallen  columns, 
architraves  and  cornices,  are  richly  adorned  in  scidptured  relief, 
deep-cut  into  the  liu,L,'e  stones  in  fii^ures  of  i;ods  ;ind  kinL;s,  and 
sharp-cut  hieroi^lv  phicscommemor.itiveof  the  deeds  of  those  whose 
figures  are  shown.  I'Vom  these  fi;.^niresanil  hiero^dy])liic  surround- 
Ihl;-^  the  scientist  unfolds  the  pai^es  of  a  Ion|^'-de,id  history,  and 
en,d)les  us  to  know  what  men  and  kin^^s  did  loni,'  before  history 
was  born.  On  our  downward  voya^'e  on  the  Nile  we  visited  them 
twice  as^'.dn.  speiidiii;.;  loii^  hours  by  da\-  anioiKf  the  ruins.  Much 
of  the  walls  and  many  of  the  mi^dity  columns  of  the  i,ne,it  ttiii])ie 
of  Rameses.  with  the  vast  stones  above  forming  roof  .md  entaliia- 
turc,  still  exist  in  more  or  less  tumbled-down  condition.  This 
huf^e  structure,  all  in  el.d)orate  and  massive  art,  covered  with  its 
outer  w.dl  a  space  not  far  from  a  mile  and  a  h.ilf  roudd,  with  :i 
hei^'ht  of  over  70  feet,  antl  w.dls  of  vast  thickness.  Here  were 
hundreds  of  huj^e  columns,  from  S  to  12  feet  in  diameter 
and  .to  to  60  feet  hi^h,  richly  carved.  Some  of  them  have 
been  thrown  so  ;is  to  le.in  over  .it^Minst  others,  the  vast  hani^dn^^ 
.stones  of  the  .uchitraves  lookin-^  like  the  rocks  of  a  toppling 
precipice.  Two  obilisks,  nearly  loo  feet  hif^h,  of  solid  <.;ranite, 
st.'ind  as  if  their  roots  were  deep  in  the  earth,  but  one,  lyin^' 
broken,  shows  that  the  Nile  in  its  annual  washing  finds  no  foun- 
d.itioii  too  firm  for  it  to  undermine. 


I. 


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310 


A  RACE  WIT  If  TUE  SCN 


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N(i  other  ruins  in  Ivj;ypt  arc  so  massive  as  tlicsc  of  Karn.ik, 
tlu)iiL;li  there  are  others  in  a  liettcr  toiulitioii.  The  Nile  has  done 
more  to  hrinj,'  tl>e  mi^lity  temples  of  ohl  Thebes  (Luxor)  down 
tiian  li.is  tiu.'  liand  of  man.  Hut  reiij^ious  fanaticism,  l)olh  Cliris- 
tian,  unfler  tile  I'-astern  empire,  ami  Mohammetlan,  witliin  l,C)00 
years,  has  done  its  best  to  deface  all  that  was  {)ure!y  artistic. 
Mo<!ern  taste  would  find  little  to  admire  in  the  beautiful  sculptures 
on  any  of  the  old  temples  if  the  rock  hat!  not  been  loo  hard  for 
the  liand  of  the  fanatic  iiammerer  or  the  elevation  too  ^,'re.it  for  a 
lazy  priesthood  to  reach,  or  if  the  massiveness  and  multitude  of 
tlie  .sculptures  had  not  been  too  jjreat  for  iniiolent  muscle  to  pick 
away.  'Ihe  Nile,  too,  while  a  destroj'er,  lias  also  l)een  a  preserver 
by  fillin^^  up  the  lower  parts  of  many  temples.  This  accumul.ited 
soil  bein^  removed  discloses  the  covered  parts  in  almost  ori^'inal 
form.  The  temple  of  Lu.xor,  close  to  the  river,  is  a  ^rand  om-, 
but  le-ss  impressive  than  Karnak.  The  ruins  of  Medeenet  y\i)oo, 
across  the  river  on  the  west  b.mk,  however,  in  many  res|)ects 
pleased  me  more.  lUit  it  would  be  a  waste  of  space  to  attempt  to 
descrilx-  this,  or  even  any  more  of  tiiem.  Tiiebes  was  a  mi^'hty 
city,  and  left  many  ruins  to  attest  its  ^'raiuleur. 

Hack  of  the  old  cit}-,  in  Rorijes  in  the  mount. liiis  on  the  west 
bank,  an;  the  "  tombs  of  the  kinijs,"  whose  mummies  and  papyrus 
rolls  ha\e  been  so  v.du.d)le  to  the  world  of  Utters.  These  tombs 
are  cut  into  the  solid  rock,  all  sIopinLjdouiuv.ird  and  runnini;  under 
the  mountains  from  100  to  500  feet,  in  lonj4  };alleries  12  to  20  odd 
feet  wide  ami  <)  to  \2  feet  deep.  In  ditferent  parts  of  them  are 
large  chaml)ers  whose  walls,  as  well  as  those  of  the  long  galleries, 
are  coveied  with  seul|)tures  in  dei'p  relief,  and  with  liierogly\hie 
writing  beautifull}-  sharp.  The  sculptures  are  the  figures  of  the 
king  for  whom  the  tomb  was  built,  of  the  kings  and  peoples  whom 
he  coufiuered,  of  his  battles  and  \ictories,  of  the  spoils  of  w.ir,  of 
capli\es  and  beasts  ami  treasuns  brought  back  and  offered  to  the 
gods,  and  of  the  gods  themselves  receiving  the  gifts.  Many  of 
these  sculptures  are  beautifully  wrought  of  high  art  (I'.g>plian), 
and  when  not  defaced  are  bright  in  color  as  when  rn>t  p.iinted. 

There  is  shown  e\erywhere  evidence  that  the  artists  of  the  vast 
past  did  not  trust  entirely  to  the  chisel  to  show  form,  to  exhibit 
beauty,  or  to  exjjri'ss  action.  Sculptures  within  doors  and  w  ith- 
out  seem  all  to  have  been  painted.  Those  in  tlu.'  tombs  were 
fresh  when  exhumed,  and  m.ui)' are  still  bright.  (  )n  the  exposed 
temples  time'  and  the  few  rains  of  I'".g\'pt  through  thousands  of 
yens  havi'  only  left  traces  of  the  old  colors.  The-  smoke  of 
torches,  and  even  the  jjeiicil  of  vanity,  ha\e  tarnished  most  of  the 
paintings  in  the  tombs,  but  enough  \et  remains  t'.'  delight  the 
student  and  please  the  curious  ni.m. 

In  some  tombs,  discoveretl  op])osite  Assouan  two  ye.irs  ago, 
there  arc  picture-writings  of  exquisite  finish  and  perfect  jireserva- 
tioii.     I  have  rarely  seen   f(>rms,  especially  of  binls,  dr.iwn  with  a 


rilE   TOM  US  A.\D   TIIEIK  ADOKX  M  l:.\  TS 


.5'« 


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lie 

II 

s- 

H) 

ii". 

es 

or 

a 


freer  hand,  or  showing'  more  ^'racc  or  ease  of  pose.  One  can  al- 
most say  llii-y  are  tlu:  living  linl.:s  connecting'  the  (Ka<i  past  with 
the  present.  I'liey  seem  to  step  and  move,  ,ind  step  and  move 
with  st.itely  ^i.ivity,  and  are  .is  fresh  as  tiie  thin;.;s  of  yc-terii.iy. 
I'hey  ii.ive  not  been  injured  a.>.  yet,  and  perh.ips  will  not  be,  for 
now  the  s^overnment  preserves,  more  or  less  carefully,  all  antiq- 
uities, 'lliese  toiiiljs  were  lio.inlcd  up  wluii  w  i-  visited  tluin,.ind 
it  beiiiLj  after  the  visiting'  si.e. on,  tlie  guardians  were  not  .iboiit. 
W'e  hoisted  each  other  over  tiu"  bo.ndin^f  on  i.uh  other's  shoiil- 
di  r.>..uid  then  pulled  up  the  last.  There  were  m.i-<ses  of  bones  of 
iiiumiiiie>,  in. mini)'  boxes,  .md  these  bi'.uitifiil  |)ietuie-p,iintin^s, 
which  ami)ly  rep.iid  us  for  some  bruised  shins  and  torn  finj^ers. 
\Ve  brouj^ht  away  a  j.iw-bone  or  two  without  co-,t,  but  were  too 
honest  to  brin;4  away  a  whole  fij^'ure  or  iiuimmy  box,  though 
soivIn'  tempted.  Tluse  caves  were  the  List  opened,  ,ind  .ire  not 
yet  mentioned  in  the  j^uide-books.  Ihn^sch  lUy,  w  lioin  1  .ifter- 
ward  nu  I  in  the  Hool.d<  .Musium,  told  me  they  were  tlu;  oldest 
yet  found,  bein;,j  at  le.ist  of  the  fifth  dynasty.  I  )i-.  Schliemann 
says  they  an'  of  the  sec>>nd, — th.it  is,  .},CKX)  Ni'.irs  before  C!hrist. 
The  sands  which  fell  a^es  a^o  from  the  upper  iiei^dits  of  tlu;  cliffs 
in  which  the  tombs  were  cut  covend  tiuir  mouths  and  kept  m.m 
out,  and  thus  preserved  these  valu.djie  relics  until  now,  when  they 
are  so  liii;hl\'  .ippreciated. 

The  cliffs  alon;4  the  v.illey  in  some  localities  are  hoiuycombeu 
\\  itii  tombs,  and  I  doubt  not  that  there  are  m.my  yet  uncovered, 
;ind  possii)ly  iinsiis]iected.  .Some  will  \'et  l)e'  found,  perhai)s,  of 
i^re.it  v.iliie,  for  the  government  h.is  oiu'  or  two  fine  ste.uners  on 
the  rivi-r  lUvoted  entirely  to  .ircha'olo,L,'\'.  I  am  tojd  ih.it  Marri- 
itte's  succe-.>or  is  an  al)le  and  industrious  m.m.  It  seinis  some- 
wh.it  droll  th.it  tlure  should  be  in  this  .ictive  .ij^e  a  ;4overnmeiU.il 
dep.irtment  whose  sole  duty  is  to  stir  up  de.id  men's  bones.  The 
ancient  I'.^'yptian  h.id  a  solemn  cast  of  thouL;ht,  .md  .i  sombre 
t.iste,  but  i  think  he  knew  the  true  restin^-pl.ices  for  the  de.ul. 
He  si'Iected  spots  whic]\  de.itii  would  n.ite.r.ilU' choosi-  for  his 
court  — wild,  desol.ite  ^or^es— cliffs  in  which  no  life  is  seen,  wlu-re 
not  an  ivy  or  a  desert-thorn  could  live.  Of  all  di.id  si)ots  1  liave 
iver  \'isite(l  none  sei'iii  so  al)soluti'Iy  de.id  .md  dooLite  as  the 
f^ori^e  in  w  hich  .ire  the  tombs  of  the  kiiij^s  at  old  Tlulje'..  Modern 
sentimeiitiility  makes  a  cenutei)'  a  park  or  j^arden  in  w  hich  lovers 
wander  to  gather  flowers  when  the  kec])ers  are  out  of  si'^ht,  .md 
to  flirt  with  a  toini)stone  for  a  tr\'stin^-pl.ice,  aiul  v.mity  st.ilks 
with  more  d.ishin^'  step  in  a  '^MMvi'^ard  and  in  funeral  tr,ippini,'s 
than  it  does  ;it  ;i  birth  or  a  marri.ieje.  There  w.is  a  re.isoii  for  the 
pomp  of  the  M^'ypti.m's  tomb.  They  i)e!ieved  the  spirit  of  the 
de.id  Ii\e(l  in  ,ind  about  its  preserved  mummy,  .md  that  the  loved 
one  i.;oiu;  a|<prtciated  and  I'lijoj'etl  the  jiomps  of  its  Mirroundin^s. 
Not  to  deck  it  (Hit  in  spleiulor  was  to  leave  it  in  neL;lect  which  it 
woulil   feel   in   sorrow,  and,  i)erhaps,  resent    in   .mj^er.      Miit    t'ley 


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favored  gloomy  splendor  and  awful  pomp,  and  believed  the  dead 
revelled  in  such.  We,  however,  believe  that  the  spirit  of  our 
dead  quits  this  miserable  dust  forever — dust  which  has  been  a 
charnel-house  for  the  imprisoned  spirit, — and  wings  its  flight  far 
beyond  the  stars;  that  the  sufferings  and  griefs  of  those  left  be- 
hind cam  ot  ruffle  the  sweet  tranquillity  of  the  far-off  happy  new 
life,  and  yet  we  grieve  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  and  peep  from  be- 
hind our  trappings  of  woe  to  see  if  the  world  fully  discovers  the 
depth  of  our  sorrow.  We  deck  the  tomb  of  the  dead  as  if  the 
spirit  nightly  sate  upon  its  own  head-stone  and  delighted  in  nose- 
gays. Much  of  this  is  to  feed  the  vanity  of  the  living.  But  real 
and  sincere  grief  is  often  selfish,  as  is  joy,  and  gloats  upon  the 
thought  that  the  world  witnesses  its  agony. 

At  Ass)-out  we  climbed,  on  our  return  from  above,  the  high  hill 
which  is  so  full  of  tombs  that,  at  a  long  distance,  it  almost  re- 
sembles a  titanic  dove-cote.  Skulls  lay  about,  and  mummy-cloth 
was  sticking  in  the  sands.  Old  tombs,  long  since  stripped  of  their 
occupants  and  devoid  of  architecture,  were  being  broken  up  to 
roll  down  below  to  be  burned  into  lime.  Under  us  was  the  Arab 
cemetery  of  to  day,  a  regular  stiff,  cemented  city  of  the  dead,  with 
white  domes  and  courts  for  the  family  or  hired  mourners  to  stay 
in  when  grieving  periodically.  On  our  way  out  we  had.  passed  a 
troop  of  women  howling  on  their  way  to  the  tombs.  We  knew 
they  were  mourning  for  some  well-to-do  person.  The  intensity 
of  their  grief  cou.d  only  come  from  gold-distilling  tears,  and 
showed  that  they  were  well  paid  for  it.  Some  persons  in  the  far 
west  are  occasionally  met  who  would  find  mourning  by  proxy 
most  charming.  The  bo)s  ascended  to  the  highest  points  to  look 
over  the  desert  behind,  leaving  me  alone  among  the  old  vaults. 
As  I  sat  at  nearly  sunset  among  these  old  homes  of  the  dead, 
deserted  now  even  by  their  ghastly  tenants,  I  saw  a  hyena  come 
out  of  one.  lie  looked  down  upon  the  modern  cemetery,  from 
which  came  up  faintly  the  voices  of  the  howling  women,  gave  a 
sort  of  chuckle,  and  trotted  off.  I  wondered  if  he  and  his  race 
had  not  contracted  the  habit  of  laughing  from  living  about  tombs 
and  seeing  the  hollow  vanity  of  man.  This  was  the  only  one  of 
the  laughing  brutes  I  saw  in  Egypt. 

By  the  way,  another  of  the  old  acquaintances  of  the  Nile  trav- 
eller, the  crocodile,  has  entirely  disappeared  below  the  first  cata- 
ract, and  almost  entirely  up  to  the  second  or  third.  The  keen 
love  of  sport  of  the  Englishman  has  been  too  much  for  him.  I 
thought  I  saw  one  just  below  I'hyla;,  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
cataract,  but  it  turned  out  to  be  a  woman  swimming  the  river 
with  a  baby  in  her  arms.  She  was  on  one  of  the  little  floats  used 
so  much  on  the  Upper  Nile — a  stick  of  wood,  say  eig^'t  inches  in 
diameter,  five  feet  long,  and  turneil  up  slightly  at  one  end  like  a 
sled-runner.  A  woman  will  slip  off  her  robes,  putting  them  in  a 
flat  basket,  poise  it  upon  her  head,  hold  her  baby  in  her  arms, 


WOMEN  SWIMMING  THE  NILE. 


313 


and  on  this  little  float  go  back  and  forth.  As  she  emerges  from 
the  water  she  puts  her  garments  on,  and  goes  fortii  at  least  cleaner 
than  she  went  in.  I  saw  one  thus  swimming  with  a  basket  of 
vegetables  on  her  head  and  a  baby  in  her  arms.  She  was  taking 
her  little  truck  to  market.  It  is,  from  what  I  could  learn,  the 
only  bath  she  takes.  The  Bedouin  never  washes  all  over,  and 
his  face  rarely.  A  fellah  back  from  the  river  washes  his  feet  and 
face,  but  his  odor  shows  tiiat  this  is  all.  I  suppose  it  is  a  relic  of 
his  desert  antecedents,  where  water  is  scarce. 

The  great  majority  of  the  present  Egyptian  population  is  Arab. 
The  Copts,  about  500,000,  claim  descent  from  the  ancient  people 
of  the  Pharaohs,  but  they  more  resemble  the  Arabs  than  the  pic- 
tures on  the  walls.  It  will  interest  our  boys  to  learn  that,  on  the 
Nile,  as  in  Ceylon  and  on  the  Red  Sea,  when  natives  swim 
rapidly  they  invariably  go  hand  over  hand.  When  desirous  of 
swimming  particularly  fast  they  dive  as  far  as  possible.  They  are 
expert  divers,  and  catch  water-fowl  by  going  under  them.  At 
Luxor  Hotel  we  saw  some  droll  pet  pelicans  caught  in  this  way. 
Of  these,  as  of  other  water  birds,  there  are  great  numbers  on  the 
Nile.  I  saw  a  flock  of  several  hundred  pelicans  ranged  very  curf- 
ously  in  files  on  a  sand-bar.  About  half  were  in  rows,  one  behind 
the  other,  all  with  heat's  turned  toward  our  steamer  coming  from 
below.  The  other  half  were  in  files  looking  up  stream.  I  no- 
ticed, I  th  lught,  five  or  six  which  seemed  an  exception  to  this 
order,  but  on  close  scrutiny  with  my  glass  I  found  these  were 
storks  along  the  outer  edge  of  the  flock,  and  not  a  pelican  was 
looking  out  of  line.  The  carvings  and  paintings  in  the  tombs 
show  that,  in  the  time  of  the  Pharaohs,  the  same  birds  were  to 
be  found  in  Egypt  that  are  found  there  to-day.  Some  animals 
are  no  longer  frequenters  of  the  land  that  were  there  4,000  years 
ago.  Crocodiles  and  hippopotami  were  as  far  north  as  the  Delta, 
but  not  within  the  range  of  written  history.  Wild  geese,  cranes, 
herons,  and  snipe  of  several  varieties  were  constantly  seen,  both 
on  the  wall-carving  and  to-day  along  the  river. 

I  spoke  of  the  damage  done  the  old  temples  by  the  Nile. 
Nearly  all  of  them  stand  on  inundated  land.  The  water  has 
gradually  eaten  into  the  foundations  and  lower  members,  and  so 
causes  the  superstructure  to  tumble.  In  olden  time  the  water 
was  excluded  by  dykes.  In  some  temples  the  Nile  deposit  has  been 
several  feet  deep.  In  all,  the  dcbrh  of  towns  and  villages  has  filled 
them  often  to  the  roof.  These  have  been,  or  are  now  being,  exca- 
vated. There  seems  to  be  a  law  of  nature  that  where  there  is  growth 
there  is  life,  and,  c  converse,  where  there  is  life  there  is  growth. 
Wherever  there  is  found  either  animal  or  vegetable  life,  there  the 
very  earth  grows.  Old  things  everywhere  lie  covered  beneath 
new  things.  Where  men  have  lived,  their  cities  or  their  founda- 
tions are  found  buried  ;  where  vegetable  nature  alone  holds  high 
court,  there  trees  and  their  di'bris  are  found  far  below  the  surface. 


I- 


y: 


i\ 


314 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


% 


Id 


1 

1 

Mr  I'. 


I  I 


In  the  mountain  heights  and  in  desert  places  where  tlierc  is  no 
life,  there  denudation  is  constantly  ^oin^  on.  The  earth  itself 
does  not  grow  in  such  localities.  Most  of  this,  I  sujipose,  is  car- 
ried off  by  rivers  into  the  deep  seas.  Whence  comes  the  mass  of 
matter  which  covers  and  is  yet  covering  deeper  year  by  year  the 
mighty  plains  and  tablelands  ?  Perhaps  from  meteoric  dust, 
which  is  said  to  fall  in  millions  of  tons  every  year.  Perhaps, 
also,  from  the  impalpable  powder  which  makes  up  the  comet's 
transparent  tail.  If  care  be  not  used  at  the  dump  of  these 
mighty  dirt  carriers,  there  will  some  day  be  brought  ajout  a  lack 
of  equillibtium  on  our  globe,  and  a  turning  over  in  its  bed,  and 
then  some  of  our  fine  cities  will  be  wrapped  in  mountains  of  ice, 
and  a  torrid  equator  may  run  within  the  Arctic  circle. 

At  Luxor  we  took  a  long  camel  ride  on  our  last  day.  The 
beasts  were  not  dromedaries,  but  were  well  gaited,  and  carried  us 
in  good  trots.  We  had  none  of  the  trying  twist  in  the  back,  as  if 
one  were  a  dish-rag  being  wrung  out  by  a  lusty  cook,  such  as  one 
gets  on  the  ordinary  swing-walking  camel.  We  saw  all  the  ruins 
near  the  river  from  Phylai  down, — Edfoo,  Denderah,  etc., — but 
were  most  pleased  by  the  tombs  about  Sakkarah,  near  the  ruins 
of  old  Memphis,  some  miles  above  Cairo.  There  was  an  immense 
cave  cemetery  in  the  olden  days  of  Egypt  ;  some  of  them  were 
as  old  or  older  than  the  pyramids.  The  tombs  cover  a  space 
nearly  five  miles  long  and  run  back  into  the  high  desert  plateau  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  to  a  mile.  Many  of  them  have  been  opened  by 
arclu-Eologists,  but  only  a  few  are  kept  so,  for  the  blowing  sands 
fill  the  mouth  of  the  tomb  almost  as  fast  as  they  can  be  carried 
away.  We  had  a  blizzard  of  sand  the  day  we  visited  them.  The 
wind  came  up  with  great  speed  from  the  desert,  driving  the  sand 
into  our  faces  with  the  force  of  small  shot.  Our  eyes  burned  and 
our  cheeks  smarted.  The  sun  grew  dim,  and  when  yet  three 
hours  high  we  looked  into  his  face  without  a  blink.  He  was 
hardly  as  bright  as  one  often  sees  the  moon  in  a  mid-afternoon. 
There  was  no  redness  whatever  about  him,  but  a  cold  dimness, 
and  when  we  looked  at  him  on  the  west  bank,  far  away  from  the 
desert,  when  he  was  yet  an  hour  high,  he  was  a  miserably  pale 
orb,  and  was  lost  entirely  a  half  hour  before  his  time  for  setting. 

The  Serapeum,  or  tomb  of  the  sacred  bulls,  at  Sakkarah,  is  a 
huge  thing,  several  galleries  of  great  size  hewn  from  the  solid 
rock,  with  side  chambers  or  deep  recesses  in  which  are  monster 
sarcophagi  of  granite  13  feet  long,  8  wide,  and  11  high,  with 
monster  lids  of  several  tons  weight.  One  of  these  galleries  is 
nearly  r,200  feet  long,  and  about  30  sarcophagi  yet  sit  where 
they  were  placed  2,000  to  2,500  years  ago.  The  older  galleries, 
of  over  3,000  years  ago,  have  so  fallen  in  since  their  exhumation 
as  not  to  be  easily  visited.  The  walls  of  the  tombs  arc  richly 
carved,  and  the  long  galleries  are  lined  with  votive  tablets  placed 
there  by  individual  worshippers.     These  vast  vaults  cut  into  the 


WE  HAVE  A  NATIVE  FEAST. 


315 


solid  limestone  and  these  huge  coffins  of  granite  arc  the  last  rest- 
ing places  of  mummied  bulls.  Oh,  religion!  what  antics  thy 
votaries  have  cut  as  the  ages  have  rolled  along!  Nothing  in 
nature  too  revolting  to  be  worshipped,  nothing  in  imagination 
too  cruel  and  bloodthirsty  or  too  selfish  to  be  adored. 

When  we  awoke  in  the  morning,  after  boarding  the  downward 
steamer  aV  Luxor,  we  found  Harrington-liey  and  Marrice-Bey 
aboard.  We  had  left  them  at  Assouan.  Colonel  Harrington  in- 
formed us  he  had  received  by  wire  an  invitation  for  us  to  dine 
with  a  rich  native,  h  ta  Turk,  at  Gurgeh,  where  we  would  tie  up 
for  the  night.  Unfortunately,  we  went  plump  upon  a  sand  bar  in 
sight  of  the  town,  and  were  detained  over  three  hours,  getting 
into  port  at  nearly  midnight.  But  we  found  our  host  and  ser- 
vants with  lanterns  ready  to  conduct  us  to  his  hospitable 
mansion.  It  was  furnished  after  European  style,  with  fine 
carpets,  curtains,  and  brilliant  chandeliers.  After  cigarettes,  we 
were  invited  into  the  dining-room,  where  a  table  was  loaded  with 
bottles  of  wine  and  cordials,  but  with  no  plates.  In  the  centre 
was  a  large  bowl  containing  a  kind  of  soup.  There  were  seven 
of  us.  Each  had  a  spoon,  and  bread  with  seed  worked  into  the 
crust.  I  was  piaced  at  the  host's  right,  and  informed  in  tolerably 
fair  French  that  the  house  was  ours,  and  the  repast  begun.  Re- 
ceiving a  hint  from  the  Colonel  that  I,  as  the  chief  guest,  was  to 
be  the  leader,  as  if  the  house  was  mine,  I  commenced  my  soup 
from  the  bowl.  Each  followed  suit,  dipping  his  spoon  into  the 
common  tureen.  When  we  had  sufficiently  partaken  of  the  fluid, 
still  instructed  by  my  military  fri  nd,  I  motioned  the  servants  to 
remove  it.  Then  followed  a  large  roast,  a  whole  lamb  stuffed.  I 
pulled  off  a  piece  of  lamb  with  my  fingers.  There  were  no  knives 
or  forks.  The  better  informed  followed  the  example,  but  went 
further  and  pulled  out  the  inside  stuffing  with  their  fists  ;  getting 
dry  and  no  one  o;'Tering  wine,  I  felt  I  was  again  at  fault,  so  I  took 
a  bottle  of  clarei:  and  directed  the  servants  to  draw  the  cork. 
The  host  then  got  up  antl  poured  our  glasses  full.  There  were 
small  plates  of  sweetmeats  of  several  kinds  near  each  guest. 
Between  courses  we  cat  of  these  and  drank  champagne.  A  large 
platter  full  of  stuffed  vegetable  marrow,  whole  roasted  stuffed 
onions  and  artichokes,  and  some  smaller  vegetables  made  the 
second  course.  These  found  their  way  to  our  mouths  without 
spoons  or  fork.  Talk  was  gay.  The  host  apologized  for  having 
the  feast  served  native  fashion,  with  the  statement  that  it  had 
been  the  Colonel's  request.  Roast  turkey  came  next  ;  afterward 
followed  pigeons,  sausages,  etc.,  with  vegetables  intervening. 
When  the  fourteenth  course  was  reached,  one  of  the  boys  was 
forced  to  loosen  up  his  waistband,  and  Marrice-Bey  declared  he 
was  a  good  feeder,  but  his  father  and  mother  had  not  intended 
him  for  a  barrel.  I  cried  halt.  We  were,  however,  forced  to 
attack  the  fifteenth    course,  consisting    of    nicely-stuffed  quail. 


■I^i 


Pi 


'K  V, 


I   ■'' 


316 


A  J? ACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


With  several  more  courses  in  sight  in  the  side  room,  I  arose,  when 
aU  followed.  In  the  parlor  were  served  delicious  coffee  and 
cigarettes.  The  host  regretted  that  he  had  not  known  sooner 
that  we  would  honor  him,  so  that  he  could  have  made  a  bett'.r 
preparation.  He  was  a  wealthy  Copt,  bit  dr.-.nk  very  lightly. 
He  accompanied  us  to  the  little  boat,  where  we  found  our  ship 
berths  fitted  us  closer  than  they  had  done  the  night  before. 

The  following  evening,  at  Assyout,  we  had  a  delightful  informal 
dinner  at  Col.  Harrington's,  in  good  English  style,  and  spent  the 
evening  with  his  charming  wife,  and  Johnson  Pasha  and  his  bright 
lady.  The  Pasha  is  the  head  of  the  mounted  police  in  that  depart- 
ment. The  dinner  was  prepared  in  thorough  English  style,  and  was 
a  real  treat  to  us.  Many  months  had  passed  since  we  had  par- 
taken of  a  home-like  meal. 

With  the  statement  tha*^  Cairo  is  a  beautiful  city,  fairly  to 
be  called  the  Paris  of  the  East,  the  people  in  their  gay  attendance 
at  the  bright  street  cafes  reminding  one  constantly  of  the  French 
capital,  and  that  the  new  part  of  Alexandria  is  very  handsome,  I 
will  end  this  chapter. 


^Jt' 


V  I 


Ml  lawn 


'hen 
and 

oner 

tt'ji- 

itly. 

ship 

mal 

the 

ght 

)art- 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

GRECIAN  SKY  COLORING— FEELINGS  AWAKENED  BY  ATHENS— RICH 
ART  TREASURES  CONSTANTLY  EXHUMED— THE  FUTURE  OF 
GREECE— CORINTH— EARTHQUAKES— A  WONDERFUL  SUNSET 
—FAREWELL  GREECE. 

Athens,  April  26,  1S88. 

Visiting  Greece  many  years  ago,  I  approached  it  from  Con- 
stantinople, passing  througli  the  many  islands  of  the  ^gean  Sea 
in  the  hot  month  of  August.  I  was  delighted  with  the  constantly 
varying  pictures  presented  by  the  lofty  island  heights — broken, 
yet  graceful,  with  deep  gorges  so  clothed  in  verdure,  that  they 
seemed  smiling  dimples  on  the  mountain  sides.  The  rich  dyes 
distilled  from  a  burning  sun  were  showered  over  land  and  sea, 
clothing  both  in  softest  colorings,  changing  from  hour  to  hour  as 
the  sun  climbed  to  the  zenith  and  then  sank  toward  the  west. 
At  one  time  the  mountains,  hills,  and  valleys  were  wrapped  in  a 
bluish  liaze  ;  then  changed  to  a  purple  ;  then  to  a  violet,  over 
which  a  pink  bloom  would  spread  as  delicate  as  the  blush  on  an 
opal's  cheek,  and  in  the  sunset  glow  a  mantle  of  violet-orange  was 
thrown  over  the  graceful  shoulders  of  the  hills.  The  sea  would 
now  catch  the  blue  from  the  skies,  anc'.  then  the  colorings  of  the 
hills,  and  throw  them  back  with  an  added  beauty  all  its  own  ;  and 
as  the  sun  sank  to  its  rest,  land  and  sea,  melting  clouds,  and  trans- 
lucent sky  were  a  mighty  canvas,  over  which  the  very  spirit  of 
beauty  .-;prcad  rainbow  tints  in  exuberant  revelry.  The  memory 
of  these  glorious  pictures  has  always  lived  with  me,  and  has  been 
the  inspiration  of  many  a  dream  of  the  past. 

When  we  started  on  our  "  race  with  the  sun,"  I  began  at  once  to 
look  forward  to  a  renewal  of  my  former  pleasure  in  going  through 
the  Grecian  isles.  When  coming  from  Egypt,  now,  I  was  up  be- 
fore the  sun  on  our  second  day  out  to  watch  his  first  kiss  upon 
Milo's  conical  peak.  I  watched  the  first  ray  caught  by  the  island 
cone,  and  then  later  saw  him  lighting  up  Sephanto  and  Thermia, 
and  the  graceful  sky-lines  of  ^gina,  and  the  highlands  of  Argolis. 
But  the  glorious  tints  were  not  there.  Was  it  owing  to  the  cooler 
months  that  they  were  lacking,  or  had  my  eyes  grown  dim  and 
my  marrow  become  cold,  since  I  was  here  in  the  hey-day  of  youth  ? 
I  felt  disappointed,  and  mostly  so  with  myself.  I  whispered  that 
I  would  touch  Attic  soil,  and  then  my  boyish  enthusiasm  would  re- 
turn.    We  landed  at  Pirseus,  and  drove  up  to  Athens.     There,  to 

317 


,|  ,. 


>^j 


3i8 


A  MACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


«    ■      < 


i    ' 


\\ 


■/:■!' 


:i'/l 


J! 


t-i 


my  right,  was  Hymcttus,  on  whose  rocky  sides  grows  the  yellow 
flower  from  whose  cups  the  bee  sips  a  nectar  tasted  nowhere  un- 
less in  the  garden  of  the  gods.  There,  to  my  left,  was  low-lying 
Fames,  and  over  beyond,  Pentelicus,  whose  cold  marljje  blushes 
in  the  unequalled  beauty  of  the  Venus  and  the  Psyche,  aiul  stands 
in  God-like  glory  in  the  Apollo ;  and  there,  with  Lycabottus  for 
a  backgrou:  d,  was  the  Acropolis,  crowned  by  the  Parthenon — 
the  architect's  dream  in  ruins.  There  below,  in  massive  Pelasgic 
blocks,  was  the  Pnyx,  where  Demosthenes  maddened  men  by  his 
burning  tongue,  and,  near  by,  was  the  theatre  of  Dionysius,  where 
j^ischylus  and  Sophocles  sang  in  perfected  measure. 

These  things  were  all  before  me  as  they  were  36  years  ago, 
and  clustering  among  them  were  the  same  old  memories,  but 
the  young  dream  of  the  traveller  was  grown  cold.  He  had  long 
ago  left  old  Yale's  classic  halls  redolent  of  the  historic  past  ;  he 
hac'  lately  come  from  a  buzzing  hive,  where  to-day  and  yesterday 
and  to-morrow  are  worth  whole  ages  of  the  long  ago.  Instead  of 
having  lately  lived  in  a  dreamland  with  dead  heroes,  he  had  been 
jostling  against  active,  noisy  men,  in  whose  ears  a  rise  in  the  mar- 
ket was  more  eloquent  than  any  Demosthenic  phillippic,  and  the 
electric  tick,  telling  of  a  crash  in  stocks,  was  far  more  touching 
than  a  thousand  farewells  from  Alceste's  lips  ;  he  had  come  from  a 
throbbing  world,  which  whispered  :  "  Let  the  dead  past  bury  its 
dead,"  and  with  exultant  cry  demands  action  in  the  living  present. 
I  could  not  work  up  the  spirit  of  the  past. 

But  I  have  now  been  here  a  week ;  I  have  walked  among  the 
old  ruins;  I  have  talked  with  speaking  marbles,  lately  exhumed 
from  soil  in  which  they  had  lain  through  silent  ages;  I  have 
breathed  an  atmosphere  of  classic  purity ;  I  have  driven  beneath 
old  olives,  which  may  have  furnished  the  oil  to  anoint  an  Al- 
cibiades  when  girding  his  loins  for  Olympian  triumphs  ;  I  have 
watched  the  waves,  to  whose  murmur  Demosthenes  may  have 
attuned  his  thrilling  words  ;  I  have  drank  at  fountains,  which 
may  have  cooled  the  ruby  lips  that  made  Aspasia  irresistible  ;  I 
have  climbed  to  the  lofty  quarries,  whence  Phidias  .".iixiously  cut 
the  block  that  was  to  render  the  fame  of  his  genius  immortal  ;  I 
have  sat  upon  the  lofty  pinnacle  which  looks  down  upon  Mara- 
thon, and  upon  which  heroes  gave  a  parting  glance  when  they 
rushed  in  unequal  struggle  upon  the  Persian  host,  and  made 
Marathon  a  synonym  for  victory  ;  I  have  bathed  my  hands  in  the 
cool  waves  of  the  strait  of  Salamis,  where  was  crushed  forever 
Asia's  strength,  and  western  civilization  was  made  possible  ;  I  have 
watched  the  full  moon  as  she  climbed  the  Doric  column  of  im- 
mortal Parthenon,  and  seen  her  sit  in  silvered  glory  upon  its  grand 
pediment,  and  have  looked  down  upon  beautiful  Athens,  bathed 
in  a  very  flood  of  silvery  light  ;  I  have  sat  for  long  hours  upon  the 
balcony  of  the  Grand  Bretagne  Hotel,  inhaling  the  perfume  of 
orange  and  jasmine  coming  from  bowers  in  which  the  nightingale 


It 


ATHENS  AND  THE  ACROPOLIS. 


i^9 


How 

II  n- 
yiny 
slics 
mds 
5  for 
n — 

lis 
icrc 


was  pouring  out  its  bursting  heart  in  delicious  song,  while  I 
watched  the  splendid  pile  upon  Acropolis  in  the  distance,  lighted 
up  by  the  midnight  moon.  These  things,  and  others  of  a  kindred 
kind,  have  found  the  chord  deep  down  in  the  soul  and  touched  it, 
till  "  my  heart  can  sing,  as  of  yore  it  sang  before  they  called  me 
old."     Once  more  1  am  in  Greece  and  am  again  a  Greek. 

Few  Americans  arc  so  ignorant  as  not  to  have  heard  of  and 
t.iought  of  Athens;  few  school  children  so  cold  as  not  to  have 
been  deeply  interested  in  its  wonderful  history.  I  shall,  there- 
fore, I  think,  not  err  if  I  try  to  give  a  pen-picture  of  this  most 
classic  of  all  cities.  It  lies  in  a  sort  of  recess  between  three 
ranges  of  mountains — an  amphitheatre,  if  I  may  be  permitted 
to  use  that  word  to  designate  a  thing  not  circular  but  oblong. 
Two  short  ranges  of  mountains,  Hymettus  and  Parnes,  1,500  to 
2,000  feet  high,  rocky  but  not  absolutely  desert,  spring  from  the 
sea  on  the  west,  run  in  almost  parallel  lines  about  eight  miles 
apart,  and  meet  loftier  Pentelicus  15  to  20  miles  back.  Piraeus 
is  built  upon  a  small,  absolutely  land-locked  bay,  in  the  centre  of 
the  base.  Pericles  and  Themistocles  made  this  the  Athenian 
walled  harbor,  and  it  has  so  remained  ever  since.  I  must  not  be 
lield  too  closely  to  accuracy  when  I  give  dates,  dimensions,  or, 
indeed,  any  statistical  or  historical  data.  I  write  for  the  general 
reader,  that  he  or  she  may  see  somewhat  as  I  see,  and  not  for 
the  information  of  the  student ;  for  that  I  have  not  the  time,  if 
I  possessed  the  ability.  Four  to  five  miles  back,  and  some  two 
or  three  miles  north  of  Hymettus,  stands  modern  Athens,  nearly 
on  the  site  of  the  old  city. 

Few  cities  outside  the  new  world  have  grown  and  improved  as 
much  as  this,  since  I  was  here  in  1852.  Let  me  draw  you  a  plan 
of  the  city,  as  then,  and  as  now  seen.  Imagine  a  bold  rock  near 
400  yards  long  bj'  150  in  its  centre  and  widest  part,  lifting  250 
to  300  feet  from  a  somewhat  uneven  plain.  The  sides  of  this 
rock,  which  is  shaped  not  unlike  an  oak-leaf,  are  in  some  parts 
precipices  over  100  feet  high,  and  everywhere  else  in  steep, 
almost  precipitous  slopes.  Where  there  were  gorges,  and  too- 
casily  accessible  inclines,  lofty  walls  were  erected  and  filled  from 
within,  rendering  the  citadel  unapproachable,  except  through  its 
internal  entrance  on  its  western  point.  This  is  the  Acropolis, 
on  whose  platform  stands  the  Parthenon,  whose  great  doric 
columns,  and  massive  architraves  are  in  such  perfect  proportions 
that  they  seem  almost  light  and  airy.  There  is  the  beautiful 
Erectheum,  whose  Ionic  columns  and  friezes  have  been,  and  are, 
the  models  of  graceful  architecture  ;  and  the  gem  in  marble,  little 
"  Nike,"  the  temple  of  winged  victory,  which  the  Athenians 
claimed  had  here  made  her  home.  Around  and  about  this  hill 
are  the  remains  of  other  classic  edifices. 

Ancient  Athens  lay  around  and  under  the  citadel,  but  was 
mainly  to  the  southward,  southwest  and  southeast.     There,  scat- 


i  V 


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r  ii  <. 


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J, 


Hi  I 


,1, 

1 

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r, 

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\^ 

i! 

'•  i 

1 

/ 

320 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


'Ji;:f'  ' 


tcred  from  the  east  to  the  west  are  the  Stadium,  on  the  extreme 
east;  then  the  majestic  columns  of  the  great  temple  of  Jupiter 
Olympus,  and,  following  in  succession,  more  or  less  distant  one 
from  the  other,  come  the  Theatre  of  Dionysius,  the  Odeum,  the 
Pnyx,  or  ancient  forum ;  the  Areopagus,  where  the  people  met 
in  civic  power,  the  almost  complete  temple  of  Theseus,  perfect 
in  style,  if  it  had  not  in  contrast,  near  by  the  Parthenon  ;  and 
finaliy  on  the  extreme  west,  the  ancient  cemetery,  Ceramicus. 

Modern  Athens  lies  to  the  north,  commencing  on  the  slope  of 
Acropolis,  and  running  from  the  westward  near  Ceramicus, 
around  and  under  lofty  Lycabettus,  with  its  sharp  rock  peak  900 
feet  high,  to  tiie  Stadium  on  the  east.  From  east  to  west  the 
diameter  is  over  two  miles,  and  from  nortli  to  south,  a  little  over 
a  mile. 

In  1852  the  city  had  a  population  of  8,000  to  ri.ooo,  and 
offered  nothing  of  beauty  except  the  coloring  of  Hymettus, 
which  it  was,  and  is  yet  claimed,  decks  itself  in  a  distinct  varying 
hue  for  each  hour  of  the  afternoon  ;  beginning  with  a  warm 
gray  at  noon  and  running  to  blue  and  purple,  pink  and  violet, 
and  salmon-violet  at  sunset,  to  a  cold  gray  before  twilight 
ends.  The  town  was  then  compact,  irregular  and  inartistic, 
and  covering  a  small  space  north  and  near  the  Acropolis.  The 
Ilissus,  a  small  stream  in  dry  weather,  but  a  rushing  torrent 
after  heavy  rains,  runs  along  the  eastern  edge  of  the  town  inside 
of  the  Stadium.  Between  it  and  the  town  in  '52,  there  was  a 
waste  of  sand  and  rough,  desolate,  uneven  ground  fully  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile  wide.  In  the  centre  of  this  stood  the  great, 
quadrangular,  ugly,  new  palace,  with  stuccoed  walls.  I  remem- 
ber my  surprise  that  a  king  would  build  such  a  residence,  in 
such  a  desolate  place,  and  wondered  why  his  brother.  Bavarian 
Ludwig,  who  possessed  taste,  had  not  given  some  to  Otho.  They 
were  both  wiser  than  I.  The  city  has  grown  up  to  and  beyond 
the  palace  square,  which  now  lies  between  an  exquisite  garden, 
and  New  Athens,  and  is  filled  with  beautiful  houses  of  artistic 
design.  Few  cities  in  the  world  are  prettier  than  the  capital  of 
Greece.  It  possesses  no  magnificent  public  or  private  buildings, 
but  many  which  are  pretty  and  some  really  beautiful. 

Otho,  I  remember,  was  not  an  attractive-looking  man.  He 
was  heavy  in  feature  and  expression,  and  of  clumsy  form,  which 
his  Albinian-Greek  costume,  the  prettiest  and  most  artistic  in  the 
world,  could  not  hide.  Indeed,  it  seemed  cruel  to  put  such  a 
costume  on  so  uncouth  a  figure.  But  his  queen,  Amelia  of 
Oldenburg,  was  one  of  the  handsomest  women  in  Europe.  That 
she  had  fine  taste  is  proven  by  the  exquisite  garden,  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  square,  adjoining  the  palace,  which  she  designed 
and  laid  out — and,  perhaps,  planted,  on  the  sands.  There  is  in  it 
none  of  the  stiffness  and  formality  so  characteristic  of  royal  gar- 
dens in  Europe.     Large  palms  and  pretty  forest  trees  and  shrubs 


!-l:i 


THE  KINGS  OF  GREECE.     NIGHTINGALES.       321 


are  growing  witli  a  careless  grace,  one  would  think,  belonging 
only  to  a  native  woods.  Climbing  creepers  and  trailing  vines 
hang  as  if  set  by  lavish  n- Uire.  Winding  walks  run  here  and 
there  as  if  trying  to  avoid  some  natural  impediments.  Oranger- 
ies and  lemon  groves  are  so  planted  among  forest  trees,  that 
some  of  the  latter  look  as  if  they  had  been  cut  down  to  make 
room  for  them.  The  walks  are  neither  wide  enough  to  look 
stiff  or  too  narrow  to  prevent  free  circulation.  I  wandered  for  a 
couple  of  hours  one  afternoon  in  this  charming  garden  all  alone,  by 
the  special  permission  of  the  guard,  and  when  the  general  public 
was  not  allowed  to  enter.  So  quiet  was  the  whole,  and  so  sliaded, 
that  several  nightingales  \\<i'c.  singing,  not  so  gushingly,  however, 
as  at  night.  They  are  very  shy,  but  by  exercising  much  caution, 
I  was  able  to  keep  one  under  my  glasses  for  a  few  moments.  It 
is  wonderful  how  small  a  thing  it  is  to  give  out  such  a  volume  of 
sound.  It  is  long  and  tapering,  but  not  much  larger  in  girth 
than  a  ])Iump  sparrow,  and  carries  its  head,  when  watching  me, 
so  low,  that  the  line  from  its  beak  to  the  end  of  the  tail  seemed 
straiglit.  Its  song  has  much  more  melody  than  that  of  our 
mocking-bird,  but  not  so  varied  nor  so  continuous.  To  me  it  is 
not  so  charming  a  singer  as  the  little  skylark.  We  have  frequently 
watched  one  of  these  latter  mounting  in  small  spirals  higher  and 
higher  until  he  was  a  mere  speck  upon  the  blue  sky,  all  the  time 
singing,  and  there,  hanging  on  fluttering  wing  far  above  us,  he 
woukl  |)our  out  his  heart  in  a  love-song  so  rollicking  and  joyous, 
yet  so  sweet,  that  one  could  not  imagine  a  lady-lark  enough 
prudish  to  say  him  nay.  Why  cannot  some  one  get  these  gay 
little  fellows  to  America  ?  I  could  even  forgive  the  sparrow- 
importing  fiend  if  he  would  teach  the  skylark  to  live  and  sing  in 
our  land. 

King  George  is  even  more  democratic  than  was  his  deposed 
predecessor.  He  walks  the  streets  like  a  simple  citizen.  We  saw 
him  and  two  of  his  children  walking  from  the  Acropolis.  From 
what  I  could  learn  he  is  neither  popular  nor  the  opposite.  The 
people  feel  for  him  absolute  indifference.  He  and  Queen  Olga 
passed  us  on  going  to  the  station  when  departing  for  Corfu,  where 
he  has  a  residence.  He  touched  his  hat  to  every  one ;  all  lifted 
theirs,  but  then  passed  on  as  carelessly  as  if  they  cared  not  if  he 
should  prolong  his  absence  of  three  months  to  as  many  years. 
He  has  the  air  of  being  a  polished  gentleman.  I  asked  an  intel- 
ligent man  if  the  people  liked  his  majesty.  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  replied  :  "  They  do  not  care  a  lepta  for  him.  (The 
Icpta  is  the  tenth  of  a  cent.)  But  they,"  he  continued,  "  like  his 
son,  for  he  was  born  in  Greece,  and  is  a  Greek  in  religion  ;  but  to 
them  the  king  is  a  Dane.  We  call  him  the  '  Twirler.'  "  "  Why?  " 
"  Oh,  because  he  is  always  twirling  his  cane."  He  is  very  youth- 
ful-looking, and  the  queen,  though  far  inferior  to  charming  Queen 
Amelia,  is  a  fine-looking  woman. 


•'■ 


:1 


\  t  m 


\\i  , 


,.5 

!  -.lit  ■    '' ■ 


%^  t 


399 


./  A'JCA  ll'/J'J/  TJIE  SUN. 


'\>\,* 


Athens  is  a  delightful  place  for  a  winter  and  sprin^r  residence, 
and  will  ere  lonj;  attract  many  students  of  Grecian  literature  and 
art.  Already  the  American  school  is  prosperous.  When  I  was 
here  before  there  was  little  or  nothinj^  of  art  except  the  ruins,  but 
now,  to  my  surprise,  there  is  nearly  as  much  of  the  fine  and  pure 
antique  as  in  Rome.  These  have  all  been  found  by  excavating- 
within  a  few  years,  and  are  bein}^  added  to  consta"tly.  Some 
good  things  have  been  found  since  we  arrived.  The  Hermes  of 
the  inuseum,  said  to  be  a  copy  of  that  of  Praxiteles,  found  and 
now  at  Olympia,  is  almost  equal  to  ti.e  Apollo  Helvidere.  There 
are  some  relievos  of  life  size  found  in  the  old  cemetery,  wliich  show 
the  ancient  Greeks  not  only  to  have  been  heroes,  but  loving 
fathers  and  husbands.  The  favorite  funeral  memorial  seems  to 
have  been  a  parting  scene  between  the  dead  and  his  or  her  friends. 
The  warm  grasp  of  the  hand,  the  sorrowful  expression  of  the  face, 
and  many  little  gestures  of  affixtion,  show  that  in  old  Athens 
there  was  love  about  the  hearthstone,  and  trusting  confidence  be- 
tween husband  .-uid  wife  which  was  never  hinted  at  in  their 
writings.  There  %*imi  -  to  have  been  a  sort  of  reserve,  which  pre- 
vented the  old  Greek  from  exposing  his  home  to  the  gaze  of  any 
but  the  most  intimate.  This  feeling  exists  to-day  in  many  parts 
of  the  East.  Only  the  most  intimate  friendsliip  permits  a  hint 
from  one  to  another  that  either  has  a  wife.  A  veil  was,  and  is, 
spread  over  the  fireside,  wliich  was  only  lifted  by  the  angel  of 
death. 

The  question  has  been  for  ages  asked  :  Was  the  art  of  the  Gre- 
cian all  his  own,  or  did  he  borrow  from  another  and  improve  upon 
it  ?  And  if  a  borrower,  whence  ?  His  pride  or  vanity  never  con- 
fessed his  indebtedness.  He  acknowledged  only  the  gods  as  his 
creditors,  and  never  seemed  to  feel  to  them  any  very  weighty 
load  of  obligation.  Jove  was  little  more  than  an  exalted  Grecian, 
and  had  Apollo  appeared  as  a  contestant  in  the  Stadium,  some 
Athenian  would  have  entered  the  ring  against  him,  and  would 
have  striven  manfully  to  win  the  leafy  crown.  As  we  walked  up 
to  the  Acropolis,  we  passed  a  clear  little  running  fountain  of 
never-failing  pure  water  half-way  up  its  sides.  Whence  came  this 
water?  Where  is  its  real  source?  This  rock,  with  its  many  fis- 
sures, does  not  look  as  if  it  had  any  veins  connecting  with  distant 
hills,  and  the  platform  above  cannot  catch  and  hold  rain  to  supply 
a  perennial  spring.  I  asked  these  questions,  and  thought  them 
kindred  to  the  one  :  "  Where  was  the  source  of  Hellenic  art  ?  " 
When  I  went  into  the  museum  above,  not  yet  finished,  in  which 
are  all  antiquities  excavated  from  the  ruins  on  the  Acropolis,  I 
found  the  last  question  had  been  answered,  by  statues  and  sculp- 
tures lately  exhumed.  There  were  figures  so  thoroughly  Egyp- 
tian that  they  would  not  cause  surprise  if  seen  in  the  oldest  tomb 
on  the  Nile.  There  were  others  of  the  earlier  archaic  period, 
showing  an  advancement — a  sort  of  marriage  of  Pharaohonic  with 


111  i 


lit 


ART  TREASURHS  AM)  CHARMING  EXCURSIONS.    ^27, 

Grecian  art.  These  statues  are  of  tlie  very  earliest  period  of 
Hellenic  antiquities.  Tlie  late  finds  have  been  veritable  treasures 
to  the  archzeojogist.  Some  of  the  figures  show,  perhaps,  the  ear- 
liest attempt  at  sculpture  in  the  land,  when  but  little  more  was 
hoped  for,  or,  perhaps,  desired,  than  to  portray  the  human  form. 
As  yet  there  was  no  conception  that  marble  could  portray  thought 
except  by  the  movements  of  the  limbs.  Almost  step  by  step  one 
can  sec  in  this  museum  the  atlvancc  from  the  simple  figure,  until 


n   through   the   features, 
' ,  and  then  the  highest 


the  brain,  and  finally  ti»e  soul,  was  r'v^ 
anil  the  marble  not  only  thought,  but  I 
art  was  reached. 

About  the  time  of  my  first  visit  lure  a  German  savant  made 
the  assertion  that  there  were  w^.  no  'ireeks,  but  only  Slavs. 
Full  assent  was  given  to  the  proj.osition,  and  ;nen  of  letters  have 
mourned  that  the  blootl  of  ti)e  heroes  no  longer  fiowcd  in  man's 
veins.  An  opposite  o])inion  is  now  tailing  strong  hold  here. 
Possibly  the  wish  is  father  to  the  thouglit  ;  but  it  is  not  confined 
to  the  natives.  Learned  foreigners  have  adopted  it,  and  "dducc 
as  proof  of  the  pro[)osition  the  theory  of  the  survival  of  the  fit- 
test. Whenever  miiul  rubs  against  mind,  and  subtlety  meets 
subtlety,  they  assert,  the  Greek  wins.  Throughout  the  Levant 
they  say  the  Greek  shows  himself  superior  to  others.  They  arc 
the  keenest  traders  and  the  most  successful  commercial  men,  and 
they  confiiiently  predict  a  renaissance  in  arts  ;uid  letters  under 
the  glorious  sun  of  this  beautiful  land.  May  it  be  so.  I  would 
like  to  live  in  the  hope  and  die  with  tiie  belief. 

This  letter  was  dated  at  Athens,  but  I  am  finishing  it  at  Con- 
stantinople. We  had  not  the  time  to  make  any  extended  excur- 
sions, but  did  make  some  charming  ones  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  city.  We  drove  through  large  vineyards  to  Pentelicus,  and 
then  climbed  its  heights.  I  carried  myself  up  with  case,  but  felt 
handicapped  by  my  dead  extra  load  of  nearly  forty  pounds  of  fat. 
Though  somewhat  out  of  wind,  I  had  enough  left  to  revel  in  the 
glorious  views.  Marathon  lay  below  us  ;  Eubcea  and  the  other 
islands  of  the  /Egean  Sea  lifted  in  splendid  visions  to  the 
east  and  south.  Attica,  the  sea,  and  Corinth  in  lofty  heights, 
stretched  to  the  east,  while  Bceotia  and  snow-clad  Parnassus,  in 
magnificent  piles,  towered  at  the  north.  We  drove  out  to  the 
beautiful  bay  of  Eleusis,  and  wandered  among  its  ruins,  once  the 
scene  of  the  sacred  mysteries,  in  company  with  a  charming 
daughter  of  the  spotless  confederate  hero.  We  saw  the  Albanian 
peasant  women,  with  1  ..ddy  fair  cheeks,  and  sturdy  forms  clad  in 
coarsely  embroidered  sacks,  reaping  their  little  harvests.  P'locks 
of  sheep  and  goats,  with  tinkling  bells,  made  the  mountain-sides 
musical,  while  they  filled  the  air  with  sweet  perfume  as  they 
lightly  tripped  through  the  wild  thyme  clothing  the  lower  slopes 
in  a  mantle  of  green.  In  no  land  of  the  world  does  the  wild  red 
poppy  take  so  deep  a  dye  or  grow  in  such  masses  as  in  Greece. 


% 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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in 


Often  there  arc  seen  whole  acres  as  thickly  covered  as  a  tulip 
parterre  with  flowers  of  intensest  crimson,  so  deep  and  yet  so 
bright  that  they  seemed  to  hold  imprisoned  sunlight,  which  flashes 
from  their  blood-red  cups.  The  people  claim  that  this  intense 
hue  comes  from  the  blood  of  heroes  which  has  moistened  every 
foot  of  Grecian  soil. 

We  rode  on  the  narrow-gauge  railroad  that  winds  in  and  out 
over  lofty  precipices,  overhanging  the  Saronic  Gulf,  with  the  deep 
blue  sea  in  gentle  ripples  far  below  us,  and  bold  mountains  high 
above  us,  to  the  little  Isthmus  of  Corinth,  which  barely  divorces 
the  waters  of  the  Italian  Adriatic  from  the  Grecian  seas  of  the 
East.  There  we  drove  through  rich  vineyards  of  the  grape 
which  is  called  currant  in  commerce,  to  the  oUlest  temple  in  the 
land,  at  the  foot  of  the  towering  rock  1,900  feet  high,  on  which  is 
])erched  the  Acro-Corinthus,  the  loftiest,  and  next  to  Gibraltar, 
the  most  impregnable  fortified  height  in  the  world.  Then  we 
mounted  sure-footed  little  horses,  panoplied  with  pack-saddles, 
and  rode  up  tlie  giddy  height.  I  had  two,  a  light  little  mare  and 
a  yearling  colt,  wiiich  trotted  and  plaj'cd  by  nn-  side.  The  A]i)a- 
nian  owner  said  that  I  was  very  heavy,  and  so  he  gave  me  the 
two.  It  was  an  (jdd  joke,  but  I  doubt  if  he  saw  it.  We  spent 
long  hours  on  tlie  summit.  I'locks  of  long-wooled  sheep  and 
giddy  goats  grazed  ujion  the  sweet  herbs  about  us,  and  wise- 
looking  donkeys  plucked  thistles  from  the  ruined  wails.  The 
huge  cisterns,  holding  pure  water  er.ough  for  a  small  army,  makes 
this  spot  a  fa\-orite  pasturage  for  a  hundretl  sheep  and  goats  and 
a  dozen  or  more  cattle  and  donkeys.     They  come  and  go  through 

strong  gateway,  in  which  hangs  the  old  door  armed  with  mas- 
sive nail-heads,  once  swinging  to  let  in  and  out  armed  warriors, 
but  now  o])ening  and  shutting  daily  for  gentle  sheej)  and  stolid 
asses — (.he  variest  step  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous. 

The  view  from  this  famous  hill  is  almost  une([ualed.  To  the 
north  and  south  lay  lofty  mountains,  pile  upon  pile— the  most 
distant  yet  white  with  the  winter's  snows.  Fifty  odd  miles  to  the 
east,  over  the  blue  Gulf,  Pentelicus  ended  the  vision,  with  Acro- 
polis distinct  under  the  glass.  The  two  mountain-girded  gulfs 
came  up  and  tried  to  meet  in  a  kiss  below  us.  Memories  of  long 
ago  crowded  upon  us.  Mountain  and  gorge,  hill  and  steep 
slopes,  little  plains  and  blue  seas  were  woven  together  in  a  web 
and  a  woof  of  story  and  of  song — a  song  of  heroic  fortitude  and 
glory,  and  a  story  of  Moslem  fanaticism  and  modern  treachery. 
Nothing  but  memory  and  the  old  stone  and  mortar  about  us  to 
remind  us  that  this  was  the  centre  of  a  heroic  past.  I  wondered 
if  the  canal,  100  feet  deep  and  four  miles  long,  now  being  cut 
across  the  i.sthmus,  will  again  quicken  the  dead  into  life.  That 
night,  in  the  little  town  of  New  Corinth,  I  dreamed  of  battle  and 
carnage,  and  woke  to  find  myself  in  a  very  den  of  fleas.  These 
brutes   make  nic  their  chosen  victim.      .Sometimes   when    they 


THE  FUTURE  OF  GREECE. 


325 


attack  me  where  a  brave  man  should  never  be  struck, — in  the 
broad  back,  where  my  finger-nails  cannot  reach — I  am  almost 
maddened.  I  shall  carry  scars  for  weeks.  The  pleasure  of  my 
journeyings  in  Egypt  and  Greece  has  been  much  lessened  by  the 
pests.  It  is  singular  that  I  should  suffer  so  much  while  others 
scarcely  feel  them.  I  gained  something  that  night,  however,  by 
their  attack,  for  I  felt  the  sharp  shake  of  an  earthquake,  which  I 
would  have  lost  in  sleep.  I  afterwards  learned  that  they  are  of 
frequent  occurrence  along  the  Gulf  of  Connth.  The  one  I  felt 
was  a  sharp,  rapid,  vibratory  motion,  and  more  distinct  than  any  I 
ever  felt  before.  Not  a  house  in  this  locality  but  is  cracked  more 
or  less.  I  think  I  should  prefer  to  live  where  the  Titans  do  not 
make  their  underground  bed. 

Rome  has  revived  into  the  strong  kingdom  of  Italy.  Can 
Greece  follow  her  example  ?  Though  we  may  wish  it,  I  fear  I 
was  wrong  when  I  said  I  hoped  for  it.  is  there  a  ground  for  that 
reasonable  belief  which  constitutes  hope  ?  She  was  once  mighty, 
and  controlled  a  large  part  of  the  world.  But  her  power  was 
not  built  upon  labor.  She  won  her  wealth,  if  not  her  bread, 
with  the  sword.  The  reap-hook  and  the  plow,  the  merchant  ship 
and  the  workshop,  man's  labor  kneaded  into  mother  earth — 
these,  not  heroic  actions,  on  the  battle-field,  are  the  foundation 
of  power  and  wealth  in  these  piping  days  of  peace  None  of 
these  are,  or  can  be,  within  the  grasp  of  a  new  Greece.  Her 
mountains  and  steep  valleys,  and  her  pure  air  may  make  men  of 
iron  muscle  ;  her  wonderful  sky-lines  and  dimpled  hill-sides  ; 
her  violet  seas  and  purple  heights,  panoplied  by  golden  clouds 
floating  on  opalescent  skies — these  may  be  the  food  of  genius 
and  foster  poetry  and  art,  but  it  is  the  spreading  meadow,  the 
great  prairie,  and  the  rich  river  valley  waving  in  corn  or  golden 
in  cotton  bloom,  the  mountain  heart,  crystallized  into  iron  or 
black  in  solid  carbon;  the  deep  harbors  leading  into  boundless 
seas  which  wash  the  shores  of  near  and  distant  lands, — the  nations 
which  possess  these,  and  they  alone,  can  feed  the  world  and 
clothe  it,  and  be  its  carriers.  Greece  can  barely  feed  herself,  and 
from  her  own  resources  can  weave  for  her  people  but  scanty 
clothing.  She  cannot  find  in  her  mountains  the  ribs  of  mighty 
ships,  nor  the  food  for  their  hungry  stomachs,  nor  do  mighty  oceans 
wash  her  shores,  inviting  her  to  trade  with  the  world,  now  100 
times  larger  than  it  was  20  odd  centuries  ago.  A  comparatively 
very  small  part  of  her  area  of  20,000  square  miles  is  at  all  cultiva- 
ble, and  of  this  a  still  smaller  proportion  is  highly  productive. 
The  wheat  is  rather  light,  and  the  olive  crop  somewhat  uncertain. 
The  grape  is  of  good  quality,  and  of  fair  average  yield,  but  often 
fails. 

The  vine  which  produces  the  Zante  currant,  so  valuable  in  com- 
merce, will  fruit  only  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Gulf  of  Corinth. 
Transplanted  elsewhere,  it  changes  its  nature,  and  produces  a  com- 


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326 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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mon  grape  of  inferior  quality.  It  looks  like  the  ordinary  grape 
vine,  and  is,  like  the  vine  in  all  regular  grape-growing  countries, 
not  permitted  to  run,  but  is  cut  in  at  about  two  and  one  half  feet 
high.  Generally  the  wine-producing  vine  is  trimmed  to  half  this 
height.  I  saw  some  of  these  latter  near  Athens,  of  great  age  and 
nearly  a  foot  in  diameter.  Some  of  the  olive  trees,  too,  are  very 
old — said  to  be  over  2,000  years.  They  are  ordinarily  cut  in, 
leaving  the  main  trunk  eight  to  ten  feet  high,  and  furnishing 
a  smaller  head  than  younger  trees.  The  branches,  however,  being 
very  thick,  are  productive.  No  other  tree  carries  the  appearance 
of  old  age  so  much  as  a  gnarled  old  olive.  It  is  twisted  and 
deeply  indented,  has  gnarled  and  tortuous  branches,  and,  with  its 
ash-colored  leaf,  is  the  very  embodiment  of  hoary  old  age.  From 
its  trunk,  indented  and  twisted  as  if  in  pain,  the  artist  borrowed 
the  idea  of  the  old  tree  trunk  for  funeral  monuments.  Like  the 
hills  in  this  land  of  atmospheric  effects,  the  olive  foliage  adapts 
its  coloring  to  the  character  of  the  day,  and  to  barometrical 
influence.  0"e  sees  it  now  with  a  green,  almost  cheerful  and 
bright,  and  then  more  sad,  and  again  as  if  strewn  with  the  ashes 
of  despair.  I  suppose  the  condition  of  the  air  causes  it  now  to 
show  the  top  of  the  leaf,  which  is  of  pleasant  green,  and  then  the 
under  side,  which  is  almost  white,  or  to  blend  them  together.  It 
is  a  pretty  idea,  however,  that  this  tree,  which  in  every  land 
bathed  by  the  Mediterranean  is  counted  man's  intimate  and 
peculiar  friend  should,  like  the  human  heart,  feel  .sad  or  cheerful, 
as  the  weather  may  be  bright  or  sombre.  In  this  land,  as  in  so 
many  we  have  lately  visited,  the  woman  and  the  ,ass  or  cow  do 
more  than  their  full  share  of  peasant  labors  and  arudgery. 

Although  the  wheat  has  not  yet  begun  to  yellow,  it  is  being 
harvested.  I  was  told  it  is  because  hired  labor  is  scarce  in  Greece, 
and,  therefore,  the  little  farmers  have  to  take  time  by  the  fore- 
lock. I  suspect,  however,  it  is  to  make  the  straw,  the  only  fodder 
or  hay  here,  more  nourishing.  In  the  villages  the  harvest  is 
spread  on  the  houses  to  dry.  The  rcap-hook  is  very  long,  yet 
many  of  the  reapers,  both  men  and  women,  half  squat  when  using 
it.  The  Albanians  furnish  quite  a  large  percentage  of  the  field- 
peasantry,  and  the  Bulgarians  the  shepherds.  All  Grecians  evince 
the  old  characteristics  observed  by  St.  Paul :  "  They  run  about  to 
hear  something  new."  In  passing  field  or  other  laborers,  they 
invariably  paused  to  look  at  us,  and  when  a  train  whirled  by,  all 
would  stand  up  and  watch  it  until  out  of  sight.  I  like  this.  A 
rushing  train  of  cars  is  a  grand  sight,  and  seems  always  to  present 
a  new  form.  The  man  who  can  let  one  pass  and  not  give  it  a 
glance  must  be  a  slave  to  his  work  or  akin  to  the  ox  of  the  field. 
I  took  a  pleasure  in  India  in  the  fact  that  the  queer  buffalo  had  a 
mind  sufficiently  inquiring  always  to  look  up  with  interest  at  a 
passing  train.  If  a  young  one  tossed  its  head  I  felt  amused,  but 
when  one  a  hundred  yards  off  deliberately  turned  and  kicked 
squarely  at  us,  he  aroused  a  fellow-feeling  in  my  breast. 


.\  <• 


AN  EXQUISITE  FAREWELL  SCENE. 


327 


The  wine  of  this  country,  while  somewhat  rough,  is  fruity  and 
rich.  The  natives,  however,  do  not  drink  it  in  its  normal  state. 
They  put  into  their  white-wine,  resin  from  the  Isthmian  pine 
giving  to  the  liquid  a  taste  of  sealing-wax.  It  is  called  "  resinatta," 
and  is  drunk  in  lai'ge  quantities.  If  I  be  not  mistaken,  the 
ancients  had  a  like  taste,  which  was  mentioned  in  the  grand 
poems.  They  use  olive-oil  largely,  but  I  believe  it  is  not  of  good 
quality.  Their  manner  of  curing  the  olive  I  like  much  better 
than  the  Spanish.  The  fruit  is  gathered  ripe,  and  is  cured  in  oil. 
It  looks  black  and  unsightly,  but  has  a  delightful  flavor,  and  is 
decidedly  health-giving.  Being  desirous  of  going  up  the  Danube, 
and  yet  of  reaching  Italy  before  it  becomes  too  warm,  we  were 
forced  to  leave  Athens  much  sooner  than  we  would  have  liked, 
and  on  the  afternoon  of  the  2gth,  took  the  Khedive  steamer  for 
this  place.  VVc  had  a  marvellous  sunset,  as  we  passed  the  fine 
old  temple  ruin  of  Sunium,  at  Cape  Colonnna,  the  southernmost 
point  of  Attica. 

A  beautiful  thing  nearly  always  so  impresses  me  that  I 
am  inclined  to  think  it  more  beautiful  than  any  thing  before  seen. 
I  think  I  have  seen  a  hundred  sunsets  finer  than  any  preceding 
onT.  Hut  the  memor\-  of  this  will  always  live  with  me  as  the 
paragon  of  ail.  The  mountains  to  the  went  furnished  a  perfect 
outline.  The  sky  was  beautifully  blue  above,  running  down 
through  the  whole  range  of  opalescent  tints  to  a  brilliant  gold. 
Short  banks  of  clouds  of  purple,  fringed  with  flame,  stretched 
here  and  there  near  the  sun,  flanked  by  others,  more  or  less  cumu- 
lous,  of  purple  bordered  with  orange-violet  with  pink  borders, 
and  of  red-violet  ;  floating  about,  and  between  the  drawn-out 
bands,  were  fleecy  flecks  of  fire-clouds,  almost  dazzling,  but  dis- 
solving and  melting  away  while  the  eye  was  trying  to  take  them 
in.  Tliese  cloud-forms  and  their  colorings  on  the  mother-of-pearl 
tinted  sky,  dissolved  and  took  new  shapes  and  tones  so  rapidly 
that  the  eye  could  scarcely  take  note  of  them  before  they  were 
gone  and  were  followed  by  others  differing  from,  but  not  less 
beautiful  than  those  preceding.  The  western  sky  was  a  vast  in- 
verted opal,  as  if  one  were  at  the  heart  of  the  gem,  and  were 
looking  upon  the  fickle,  magical  hues  of  its  cheek  from  within 
instead  of  from  without.  On  a  lofty  rock  promontory,  projected 
over  the  sea,  were  the  columns  in  white  marble  (all  that  is  left)  of 
the  old  ruins  of  Sunium,  Parthena's  most  southern  Attic  home, 
reaching  nearly  up  to  the  mountain's  sky-line,  and  resting  upon  its 
purple-gray  side  as  a  background  directly  below  the  point  where 
the  sun  had  gone  under.  Old  memories  were  woven  into  the 
living  picture,  which  was  beautiful  beyond  description — painfully 
beautiful.  Thus,  one  is  often  affected,  when  looking  upon  a 
thing  of  beauty  so  transcendant  that  the  brain  seems  powerless  to 
grasp  it  and  speak  of  it  to  the  heart,  or  when  the  heart  becomes 
so  full  that  the  head  is  unable  to  give  it  full  sympathy.  This 
sunset  under  old  Sunium  was  full  of  deep  pathos,  fitting  picture 


^^  . 


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328 


A  KACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


m.. 


\\ 


for  memory  to  recall  as  the  parting  scene  of  this  storied  land  ; 
this  land  so  little  yet  so  grand,  whose  men  walked  the  ground  in 
the  form  of  gods  ;  whose  genius  was  plucked  from  the  eternal 
stars  ;  where  poetry  was  a  living  thing  and  art  hovered  over  the 
every-day  home.  Wonderful  land !  A  speck  upon  the  earth,  yet 
the  story  of  its  deeds  will  roll  over  the  world's  plains,  and  be  echoed 
from  its  hills,  until  history  shall  turn  to  tradition  and  tradition 
itself  shall  become  dumb. 

We  stood  upon  the  deck  of  our  little  ship,  and  looked  long 
toward  the  west.  The  sun  went  down  over  the  mountains  and 
sank  to  his  rest.  Shadows  gathered  over  the  hills  and  night  fell 
upon  the  sea.  With  a  sigh,  I  bade  a  long  farewell,  a  final  good- 
by  to  Greece. 


v 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

COSMOPOLITAN  CONSTANTINOPLE— liEAUTIFUL  APrROACII— CUS- 
TOM  HOUSE— SOLOMON  AND  HIS  TRII5E— DOGS— ST.  SOPIILV— 
liAZAAKS— THE  SALAAM-LICK— THE  TIMID  SULTAN— DER- 
VTSHES— THE  I50SPH0RUS— WONDERFUL  PANORAMA. 

Constantinople,  May  lo,  1888, 

If  one  will  spread  before  him  a  map  of  the  eastern  hemisphere 
he  will  observe  that  nearly  all  the  land  lies  in  the  northern  half, 
and  that  it  is  one  mighty  continent,  divided  arbitrarily  by 
geographers  into  three  divisions,  but  by  nature  into  only  two. 
Cut  out  from  the  map  this  vast  continent,  and  try  to  balance  it  on  a 
pin  for  a  pivot.  The  centre  of  gravity  will  we  found  to  be  not  far 
from  the  southern  end  of  the  Caspian  Sea.  If  the  card-board  map 
be  as  hard  there  as  the  land  of  that  region  is  sterile,  the  pin  will  not 
enter  it,  just  as  the  plow  antl  the  hoc  cannot  penetrate  the  surface 
of  those  desert  regions  of  Persia.  If  the  paper  partakes  of  the 
character  of  the  country  delineated  upon  it,  the  nearest  point  the 
pin  will  enter  will  be  in  Western  Asia  Minor;  for  there  the  near- 
est cultivable  land  will  be  found,  and  there,  too,  is  approximately 
the  centre  of  the  productiveness  of  the  hemisphere.  There, 
moreover,  will  be  found  the  centre  of  a  mighty  system  of  water 
which  permeates  throughout  this  vast  tripartite  continent.  It  is 
not  too  fanciful  to  call  this  the  arterial  system  of  the  old  world, 
with  Byzantium  the  heart  and  the  Bosphorus  the  aorta,  which 
flows  out  into  the  Mediterranean,  along  the  western  shore  of 
Asia,  along  and  into  northern  and  central  Africa ;  along  and  up 
into  the  gardens  and  vineyards  of  Europe ;  over  the  sandy 
reach  of  the  Suez  into  the  Red  Sea  and  the  world  of  water,  and 
the  lands  of  fabled  treasures  beyond  ;  and  through  the  Black 
Sea,  and  splashing  over  into  the  Caspian  and  upon  the  Aral,  up 
into  the  vast  grain  and  cattle  regions  watered  by  the  rivers  flow- 
ing into  these  seas. 

If  there  be  a  spot  in  Europe,  Asia,  or  Africa,  designed  by  nature 
for  the  imperial  heart  of  the  old  world,  it  would  seem  that  the 
Byzantium-Constantinople  is  the  one.  A  cursory' view  of  the 
map  and  a  very  slight  knowledge  of  the  productiveness  of  the 
lands  into  whose  fibres  the  pulsations  of  the  Bosphorus  can 
throw  the  quicken-ng  blood  and  draw  back  repayment,  will  con- 
vince any  one  of  t.iis  fact.  A  walk  through  this  city — meeting 
peoples  from  all  these  regions,  here  domiciled  as  if  to  the  manor 

329 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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.'       ■ 


born,  is  only  a  sharp  emphasis  of  the  evidence  given  by  the  map. 
The  untravelled  American  sees  people  drawn  from  many  chmcs, 
but  they  have  become  almost  immediately  Americans.  One  who 
traverses  the  streets  of  New  York  or  London,  where  are  men  of  all 
lands  retaining  their  native  characteristics,  and  sees  them  all  only 
as  sojourners.  But  here  one  meets  people  in  colonies,  in  squads 
and  groups,  each  group  differing  from  all  others,  yet  all  seem- 
ingly at  home  and  evidently  feeling  that  this  city  belongs  to  them 
and  tliey  to  it.  Here  one  jostles  against  groups  of  Englishmen  as 
thoroughly  English  as  if  living  within  the  sound  of  Bow  bells; 
Frenchmen,  who  look  as  if  they  sipped  their  coffee  and  absinthe 
every  evening  on  the  boulevards  ;  Germans  who  have  just  blown 
the  cream  from  their  lager;  Italians,  who  are  happy  on  a  frugal 
meal  of  macaroni ;  Levantine  Greeks,  noisy  and  full  of  swagger 
and  bad  wine  ;  Arabs,  stately  and  dignified,  conscious  that  they 
alone  have  the  right  to  cry  "  lUaha-il  Allah  "  ;  Armenians  with 
long  noses  patterned  after  a  vulture's  beak,  who  can  give  a  Jew  two 
in  five  and  win  every  time  ;  Albanians,  wliose  bed-fcllows  are  their 
swords  and  daggers,  and  who  think  a  fight  in  the  dark  more  agree- 
able than  a  feast ;  Tripolitans,  who  wear  green  turbans,  claiming 
to  be  the  real  descendants  of  the  prophet,  and  pining  for  battle 
in  his  cause;  Turkomans  and  Kurds,  who  claim  for  their  country 
the  land  they  can  see  beneath  the  vault  of  the  sky ;  Africans 
from  south  of  the  Sahara  and  about  the  springs  of  the  Nile,  who 
wear  slashes  ?nd  gashes  for  jewels,  and  consider  long  scars  on 
their  cheeks  uieir  gems;  Bulgarians,  heavy  and  stupid,  whose 
every  breath  is  a  hurricane  of  garlic,  and  Russians,  whose  dream 
is  that  the  Greek  cross  may  supplant  the  cresent  on  St.  Sophia's 
dome. 

All  these  various  peoples  are  met  with  in  other  cities,  but  one 
meeting  them  at  once  recognizes  the  fact  that  they  are  in  them, 
but  not  of  them  ;  here,  however,  they  seem  at  hoine  and  as  much 
of  the  place  as  are  the  Turks  themselves.  No  distinctions  are 
made  among  men  because  of  race,  previous  condition,  or  color. 
A  German  is  at  the  head  of  the  army,  and  Woods  Pasha,  an 
Englishman,  will  probably  fill  the  place  of  Hobart  Pasha  at  the 
head  of  the  navy.  A  Greek  is  the  Sultan's  physician,  and  is  said 
to  wield  vast  influence  over  him.  An  African,  whose  blue-black 
face  has  three  broad  gashes  on  each  cheek,  is  in  command  of  a 
regiment,  and  the  army  is  of  every  hue,  from  fairest  white  to 
sooty  black.  The  locality  teaches  that  all  men  are  akin,  and  a 
prayer  uttered  with  the  face  turned  toward  Mecca  smooths  down 
the  steps  leading  to  the  most  exalted  positions. 

Mutterings  are  constantly  heard  throughout  Europe  to-day, 
beneath  the  ground  and  over  it,  threatening  war  and  the  dread 
carnage  which  must  follow,  and  men  and  women  are  kept  in  con- 
stant fear.  When  Jie  great  emperor,  whose  fiat  crystallized  so 
m?.iy  petty  German  states  into  one  mighty  Teutonic  empire, 


GLORIOUS,  IGNOBLE  STAMBOUL. 


ZT,"^ 


was  lying  upon  his  iron  bedstead  listening  bravely  for  the  tap  of 
the  drum  which  was  to  call  him  to  the  ranks  of  the  mighty  dead, 
men  instead  of  thinking  of  his  glorious  career  and  preparing  to 
drop  a  tear  upon  his  casket,  were  looking  toward  San  Remo  and 
watching  the  horizon  to  see  whether  a  bright  sky  laden  with 
peace  was  to  come  up  from  Italy,  or  a  lurid  cloud  reeking  with 
war  was  to  roll  over  Europe ;  and  all  because  of  Constantinople 
and  the  Bosphorus. 

Wise  statesmen  arc  closeted  with  each  other  studying  the 
world's  map,  and  with  heads  bent  close  together,  fix  their  eyes 
all  in  one  little  focus — Seraglio  Point,  where  the  Golden  Horn 
brings  down  the  "  sweet  waters  of  Europe,"  to  pour  them  into 
the  wonderful  salt  river  rushing  between  Stamboul  and  Scutari. 
Shallow-pated  wiseacres  discuss  in  flowing  periods  that  all-talked- 
of  and  little-understood  problem,  "  the  Eastern  Question,"  and 
glibly  declare  who  should  own  Constantinople.  For  2,500 
years  the  eyes  of  all  civilization  have  been  turned  upon 
this  spot,  and  yet  not  a  single  deed  was  ever  performed  here 
which  was  fairly  entitled  to  be  spread  upon  the  page  of  history. 
Here,  close  by,  the  searchers  for  the  Golden  Fleece  moored  their 
ships  when  Greece  was  the  home  of  mythical  demi-gods.  Here 
the  dread  Macedonian  monarch  was  forced  to  cry  halt.  Here, 
over  2,000  years  ago,  the  vast  hordes  of  Asia  were  compelled 
to  bend  aside  their  steps,  and  long  centuries  afterward  the 
crescent  was  baffled,  on  its  world-conquering  march  by  the 
green  waters  of  a  stream  but  little  over  a  half-mile  wide.  Here 
lOO.ooQ  old  men,  women,  and  children,  begged  for  bread,  when 
they  could  go  no  farther  on  their  weary  pilgrimage  to  the  holy 
sepulchre.  Here  soldiers  under  the  banner  of  the  cross,  slaugh- 
tered the  followers  of  Christ,  and  again,  after  a  few  centuries. 
Christian  blood  flowed  in  rivers,  and  Christian  women  and  chil- 
dren by  the  thousands  marched  mournfully  into  slavery,  when 
Mohammed  H.,  stained  with  his  bloody  hand  St.  Sophia's  alab.is- 
ter  column.  Toward  this  spot,  and  for  this  spot,  mighty  armies 
have  marched  and  vast  fleets  have  sailed,  within  the  present  half 
century,  and  fought  great  battles,  but  not  upon  its  waters  or 
near  its  limits.  Within  a  few  hundred  acres,  not  far  from  where 
I  write,  crimes,  silent,  dark,  and  bloody,  in  vast  numbers,  but  all 
unrecorded,  have  been  perpetrated,  enough  to  make  the  very 
name  of  man  a  stench  in  the  nostrils  of  angels,  and  yet  not  a 
single  act  of  individual  heroism,  no  sublime  performance  by 
masses,  was  ever  recorded  as  done  within  or  under  Stamboul's 
walls.  Beautiful  city,  the  heart  of  the  third  of  the  world,  with 
an  existence  of  nearly  3,000  years,  the  seat  of  empire  for  15  cen- 
turies, the  witness  of  untold  crimes,  and  with  chronicles  without 
number,  and  yet  having  no  history,  for  her  deeds  have  not  been 
worthy  of  record,  a  city  whose  name  is  "  linked  with  no  virtue 
and  ten  thousand  crimes  "  ! 


hh 


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333 


^  A'^C'i^  /F/77/  2//Ji  SUA'. 


Under  Sunium's  old  ruin  \vc  bade  adieu  to  Greece,  on  our  way 
here.  The  next  morning's  dawn  found  us  under  "  the  home  of 
the  blind  old  man  of  Scio's  rocky  isle,"  the  island  an  earthquake 
so  fearfully  desolated  four  or  five  years  ago.  We  then  steamed 
up  Smyrna's  gulf,  with  pretty  mountains  on  our  right,  and  to  our 
left  a  plain  flecked  with  huge  pyramids  of  salt — salt  enough  to 
make  a  sea  briny.  Here  this  necessary  article  is  manufactured  by 
a  Turkish  monopoly  and  is  piled  in  mountains,  from  which  ships 
load  from  year  to  year,  without  apparently  lessening  the  heaps. 
Smyrna  is  a  thoroughly  Oriental  city  of  200,000  population,  has  a 
fine  bazaar,  and  a  magnificent  view  from  a  castle,  an  old  ruin 
perched  on  a  hill,  just  back  of  the  town.  So  insecure  is  the 
country,  however,  owing  to  brigandage,  that  we  were  warned  not 
to  go  beyond  the  hill.  Foreigners  are  not  infrequently  picked  up 
and  held  for  ransom. 

Early  morning  found  us  nearly  into  the  Dardanelles.  The  view 
was  pretty.  High  hills  or  low  mountains  prettily  clothed  in  their 
spring  garments  of  green  were  on  either  hand.  There  was  a  sweet 
freshness  in  this  we  had  not  seen  for  a  year.  For  many  months 
the  green  of  all  plants  has  been  often  rich,  but  lacking  that  fresh 
tint  which  so  cheers  the  eye  in  the  early  offerings  of  the  year. 
The  day  was  cold  and  damp.  Perhaps  it  was  this  which  prevented 
much  enthusiasm  when  we  looked  upon  the  great  mounds  mark- 
ing the  graves  of  Achilles  and  Ajax.  I  never  could  rave  about 
the  mighty  deeds  under  Ilium's  walls.  The  whole  thing  always 
appeared  to  me  a  sort  of  tempest  in  a  tea-pot — a  huge  buffo-farce. 
Achilles  was  a  bragging,  handsome  Buffalo  Bill,  and  Ajax  an  an- 
cient John  Sullivan,  wlio  let  out  left-handers  with  sledge-hammer 
force,  and  was  the  admiration  of  the  heirs-apparent  and  of  Helen 
peeping  from  behind  latticed  windows.  Homer  was  a  blind  old 
Gilbert  and  Sullivan,  singing  from  city  to  city,  and  begging  back- 
.shish  in  copper  and  half-clone  sheep's  meat. 

I  did  not  catch  now  our  first  view  of  Stamboul  with  the  en- 
thusiasm I  felt  36  years  ago.  I  recall  how  it  then  seemed  to  lift 
from  the  .sea  as  a  fairy  city — it  had  a  cardboard  lightness,  with  its 
rounded  domes  and  tall  minarets  and  palaces  perched  on  wooded 
hills,  all  lighted  by  a  sun  coming  up  from  the  east  warm  and  un- 
veiled by  a  single  cloud.  I  had  then  been  in  the  saddle  for 
months,  on  hot  plains  and  under  a  burning  midsummer  sun,  and 
had  sailed  from  the  foot  of  Olympus  under  Broussa  the  evening 
before  in  a  caique  of  eight  oars.  We  had  slept  soundly  on  our 
rugs  spread  on  its  bottom  all  night,  and  found  ourselves  at  day- 
break on  an  island,  within  sight  of  Con.stantinople.  There  we 
breakfasted  on  sardines  taken  fresh  from  a  fishing  boat  and  broiled 
on  a  mass  of  coals  from  burnt  brush.  It  was  a  delicious  breakfast 
for  us  and  the  crew.  Then,  with  our  prow  pointed  towards  St. 
Sophia's  dome,  we  rowed  and  revelled  in  the  beautiful  picture 
growing  out  of  the  sea.     I  remember  we  looked  and  looked  and 


THE  CUSTOM-HOUSE.     MY  CIGARS. 


333 


scarcely  spoke,  and  when  we  did  it  was  in  short  ejaculations  or 
murmurs  of  delij^ht.  Taylor  and  I  were  both  young  then, 
and  filled  with  hopes  as  swelling  as  the  domes  before  us,  and  as 
heaven-directed  as  the  minarets  in  sight.  He  has  gone  to  mingle 
with  the  eternal  dead,  and  I  am  fast  reaching  the  great  shore  line 
dividing  the  land  of  the  past  from  the  trackless  ocean  of  the 
boundless  hereafter.  Then  the  sky  was  rosy  bright,  laughing  in 
triumph  at  yesternight.  But  now — it  is  the  last  day  of  April, 
cold,  drizzling,  and  dreary,  fitting  anniversary  to  me  of  one  of  the 
dies  iric  of  remorseless  fate. 

Though  the  day  was  to  me  so  sad  a  one  and  so  dreary,  yet 
Stamboul  arose  before  us  in  a  wondrous  beauty  all  its  own. 
Wc  have  all  seen  the  conception  of  the  artist  of  "  Excelsior," 
where  the  hopeful  youth  sees  a  city  sitting  in  dreamy  light  in  a 
world  of  fleecy  cloud.  This  gives  a  sort  of  idea  of  this  city,  seen 
from  the  sea.  Our  ship  bent  into  the  Hosphorus — yjo  and  odd 
feet  of  water  so  deeply  green  that  most  people  call  it  blue.  We 
looked  over  upon  the  old  gardens  of  the  Serai,  now  a  half  wilder- 
ness of  neglected  trees  and  green  vegetable  plats.  Shutting  it 
partly  in,  arose  the  lofty  walls  rising  out  of  the  water.  There  was 
the  gate  througli  which  many  a  beauty,  tied  in  a  sack,  has  been 
quietly  thrust,  and  silently  sunken  in  her  watery  grave  !  Steamers 
were  i)lying  in  great  numbers  on  the  stream,  and  light  caiques 
were  darting  about  us  by  the  hundreds.  We  turned  into  the 
Golden  Horn,  among  a  dozen  or  more  steamers,  and  were  soon 
surrounded  by  hotel  runners  and  boatmen.  Surrendering  our- 
selves, we  were  quickly  on  Turkish  soil,  and  very  nasty  soil  it 
is  in  this  capital.  The  nastiness  of  her  streets  on  ainy  days  is 
superlative. 

At  the  custom-house  I  forgot  to  give  backshish  to  the  solemn 
Turk  who  examined  our  traps.  On  the  very  top  was  my  last  box 
of  Trichy  cigars.  He  informed  me  that  I  was  fined  40  piasters 
($2),  for  bringing  in  tobacco.  With  a  rueful  face  I  paid  the  fine, 
and  reached  for  my  smokers.  He  quickly  wrapped  them  in  a  red 
handkerchief,  and  said  they  were  forfeited.  This  was  more  than 
my  free  Yankee  blood  could  stand.     I  am  afraid  I  forgot  myself 

and  said  " it."    I  hope  I  did  not,  for  I  have  grown  pious  since 

I  quit  associating  with  "  newspaper  fellers."  But  I  know  I 
solemnly  asseverated  that  I  would  not  buy  a  pipeful  of  tobacco  or 
a  rug  in  the  Sultan's  dominions,  and  would  wipe  his  mud  from  my 
feet  as  quickly  as  possible. 

We  found  the  great  hotels  full.  We  went  to  the  Little  Bellevue. 
I  mention  it  particularly,  so  that  some  one  reading  this  may  re- 
member it.  The  view  from  its  windows  over  the  deep  valley,  along 
the  Horn,  and  upon  the  picturesque-looking  houses  on  the  green 
hills  in  the  distance,  was  simply  superb,  and  the  cuisine  capital. 
Determined  to  quit  the  town  as  soon  as  possible,  we  commenced 
our  sight-seeing.     We  found  ourselves  upon  the  great  broad,  low 


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334 


./  A'AC/^  WITH  THE  SUN. 


bridge  leading  from  Pera  over  to  Stamboul.  This  bridge  is  one  of 
the  most  interesting  things  in  the  city ;  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
long  and  at  least  Co  feet  wide,  it  is  covered  from  early  morn  till 
dark,  with  a  moving  mass  of  more  various  people  than  can  be 
seen  together  anywhere  else  on  earth.  Every  nationality,  every 
color  and  complexion,  every  form  and  fashion  of  dress,  men, 
women,  and  children,  speaking  as  many  tongues  as  caused  Babel's 
tower  to  halt  in  its  upward  growth  ;  dashing  officers  in  gold  braids 
and  decorations ;  European  ladies  in  Parisian  costumes ;  Arabs  in 
burnoose,  and  Armenians  in  caftans,  fat, well-fed  Turks;  and  beg- 
gars so  fearfully  maimed  and  disfigured  that  they  ceased  to  be  ob- 
jects of  pity,  so  horribly  repulsive  were  they ;  army  horses  career- 
ing, and  patient  donkeys  plodding. 

While  we  were  trying  to  understand  how  much  we  were  to  pay 
toll,  an  unkcm\it  old  chap  took  my  money  from  my  hand,  paid  the 
toll,  got  back  the  change,  and  handed  it  to  me,  telling  in  fair 
English  that  the  toll  was  for  each  a  quarter  of  a  piaster.  I  noticed 
that  he  had  given  a  piaster  and  a  quarter,  whereas  my  party  was 
only  four.  He  had  paid  for  himself.  This  was  our  introduction 
to  Solomon,  the  Son  of  David,  the  brother  of  Abraham  and  of 
Isaac  and  of  Jacob,  and  the  father  of  five  sons.  From  that  mo- 
ment the  love  of  Solomon  and  of  his  family  for  us  surpassed  the 
love  of  woman.  It  mattered  not  where  wc  were,  morning,  noon, 
or  evening  during  our  twelve  days'  stay,  Solomon  or  some  of  his 
family  were  sure  to  meet  us,  or  to  be  somewhere  near.  If  we 
looked  about  inquiringly,  as  if  seeking  some  unfound  place,  one 
of  the  Solomon  family  was  at  our  elbow  to  tell  us  where  we  ought 
to  go  ;  if  we  hailed  a  caique,  Solomon's  son  arose  from  the  salt 
water  to  interpret  for  us,  and  to  settle  the  price ;  if  we  called  a 
horse  boy  to  bargain  for  a  ride,  Abram  rose  from  beneath  a  pav- 
ing-stone to  make  a  good  contract  for  us  and  to  mount  one  of  the 
horses  as  our  guide.  When  we  were  through  with  an  excursion, 
Solomon,  or  Solomon's  brother,  or  Solomon's  son,  prevented  us 
from  being  cheated,  and  took  whatever  we  offered  for  his  services 
with  cheerful  thanks.  If  we  gave  five  francs  for  a  half  day's  work 
to  one  of  them,  he  took  it  for  his  own.  If  we  handed  him  a 
franc,  saying  it  was  all  we  had,  he  thanked  us  without  a  murmur. 
Among  them  they  spoke  all  languages, — one  good  English,  an- 
other good  French,  another  good  Russian,  all  good  Turkish,  and 
all  enough  English  to  understand,  and  make  us  understand  a  lit- 
tle. The  most  remarkable  peculiarity  of  these  sons  of  Israel  was 
the  extraordinary  manner  in  which  they  accidently  got  into  the 
neighborhood  of  the  shop  of  some  Hebrew  dealers  in  carpets  or 
some  other  things  usually  dear  to  the  traveller's  heart.  They  did 
not  lead  us,  or  seemed  to  care  that  we  should  go  into  these 
places.  There  was  a  sort  of  attraction  between  us  when  with 
Solomon  and  the  houses  of  his  people.  Ah  !  Solomon,  I  shall 
never  forget  you,  nor  Isaac,  nor  Abram,  nor  Jacob.    You  led  our 


SOLOMON  AAl)  HIS  TRIBE. 


335 


feet  into  pleasant  places,  and  your  ways  were  ways  of  peace.  l?ut 
you  did  not  get  a  piece  of  any  dollar  we  paid  for  rugs  and  cm- 
broideries,  for  you  helped  us  to  bring  down  prices  in  every  in- 
stance. You  simply  loved  us,  Solomon,  because  we  were  young 
men  so  far  from  home  !  Walking  with  Solomon,  our  feet  got 
over  the  threshold  of  the  house  of  David — David  Levy,  and  there 
was  the  wealth  of  the  whole  land  of  the  sheep  and  of  the  goat  and 
of  the  camel.  I  told  David  I  had  sworn  not  to  buy  a  thing  in 
Turkey.  It  mattered  not.  He  simply  liked  to  show  his  goods, 
and  he  did  show  them,  and  my  heart  yearned  for  the  wool  of  the 
sheep  that  looked  like  the  silk  of  the  worm. 

I  told  our  consul  of  my  trouble.  lie  said  he  thought  his  drago- 
man might  make  the  authorities  undo  the  wrong  done  me,  and,  be- 
sides, the  principle  ought  to  be  settled  for  future  travellers,  that 
they  may  enter  a  limited  number  of  foreign  cigars  on  payment  of 
duty,  and  I  also  got  the  thanks  of  the  consul  for  pressing  the 
matter.  Result :  I  got  back  my  cigars,  and  all  of  my  money  ex- 
cept one  and  a  half  francs  duty,  and  I  sent  a  box  of  David  Levy's 
rugs  to  Chicago  ;  and  Solomon  is  the  friend  of  David. 

Solomon  is  an  institution  of  Constantinople, — so  are  the  dogs. 
Fifty-three  I  counted  on  a  narrow  street  in  a  walk  of  i  lo  yards, 
and  it  was  not  a  good  day  nor  a  good  neighborhood  for  dogs. 
They  were  everywhere, — in  the  gutters,  in  the  middle  of  the 
streets,  against  the  house-walls,  between  our  legs,  and  under  our 
horse's  feet — and  such  dogs!  All  fox-eyed,  all  dirty,  all  lean, 
and  nearly  all  mangy.  Some  have  their  tails  on  their  backs,  but 
the  majority  carry  them  low,  almost  between  their  legs.  They 
can  sleep  anywhere  ;  no  noise  awakes  them  ;  but  the  crack  of  a 
coachman's  whip  makes  them  even  when  asleep  get  two  inches 
beyond  a  carriage-wheel.  They  are  either  asleep  in  your  way  as 
as  you  walk,  or  they  are  fighting  between  your  legs.  A  dogtrots 
along  a  street,  he  looks  sheepish,  as  if  he  felt  liimself  engaged  in 
a  mean  business  ;  another  dog  attacks  him  ;  they  snap  and  bite. 
After  a  while  one  gets  the  other  down,  and  looks  as  if  he  is  about 
to  choke  him  to  death.  Just  as  the  bottom  dog  is  about  to  give 
a  last  gasp,  some  third  dog  takes  the  top  one  by  the  leg,  then  a 
fourth  comes  in,  and  a  fifth  takes  a  hand  ;  probably  a  dozen  are 
soon  engaged.  I  have  watched  them,  and  it  seemed  every  dog 
was  going  for  every  other  dog, — a  regular  Kentucky  free  fight. 
I  invariably  saw  it  through.  There  is  a  fascination  in  a  dog-fight. 
The  acknowledgment  is  shocking,  I  know,  but  the  statement  is 
true.  Sometimes  all  will  be  on  one  until  he  is  limp,  and  then 
those  that  had  finished  him  go  for  each  other.  The  cause  of 
nearly  all  the  fights  is  that  certain  dogs  claim  a  certain  set  of 
streets  or  blocks,  and  another  set  have  another  locality.  Woe  to 
the  dog  that  goes  beyond  his  bo'inds,  even  by  the  width  of  a  nar- 
row street.  When  one  does  and  gets  into  a  fight,  all  the  dogs  of 
the  two  adjoining  colonies  are  apt  to  get  into  the  row,  and  when 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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the  battle  grows  fast  and  furious,  and  a  dog  feels  teeth  in  his 
haunches,  he  }^oes  for  the  nearest,  whether  friend  or  foe.  The)- 
frequcntl)'  get  kilieil.  We  saw  one  behind  the  rail  of  St.  Sophia's 
yard  laid  out  dead.  He  would  have  been  torn  to  pieces  but  for  a 
"  mullah  "  ( priest')  who  ilrove  the  victoroff.  t\  do;^  always  goes  over 
his  bounds  with  a  hang-donr  look,  jlc  knows  his  danger,  ^'et,  for 
love  or  for  a  bone,  he  does  what  inanj-  a  man  does—  takes  a  chance. 

Hlac<iue  IJcy,  so  many  years  Turkish  Minister  at  Washington, 
lives  with  his  wife  and  beautiful  daughter  in  the  Uellevue.  lie  is 
president  of  the  Pera  municipality, — nearly  the  same  thing  as  a 
maj'or.  1  le  is  a  great  friend  of  the  i)ariah  clt)g,  and  declares  that 
all  the  tlogs  about  the  municipalitj'  recognized  the  fact  when  lu; 
was  made  president  ;  that  they  at  once  paiil  liiin  great  deference, 
and  when  he  went  toward  the  city  building  the\'  followed  him  in 
inost  respectful  manner.  Not  long  since  a  dog  bit  the  Russian 
y\mbassador.  Iledemanded  that  Ulactjue  Iley  should  'ill  him.  lie 
inquired  into  the  matter,  and  found  the  Russian  h  trodden  on 
the  dog's  tail,  and  decided  the  dog  was  justified.  1  ;gested  that 
it  was  evident  the  Turkish  dog  had  more  sympathy  lor  a  l''rench- 
man  than  for  a  Russian.  Hlactjue  is  of  l-'rench  blood.  His  wife 
lauglied,  but  her  husband  was  silent.  The  Turks  are  wonderfully 
guarded  to  say  nothing  of  the  Russians.  I  was  toUl  that  the  city 
was  full  of  Russian  spies  in  every  localitj-,  and  that  the  Turks  were 
in  constant  fear  of  them. 

As  in  all  other  Levantine  cities,  the  ilonke)'  plays  his  p.irt  and 
performs  more  than  his  allotted  work.  He  is  the  baker's  wagon 
and  the  itinerant  peddler.  Huge  panniers  are  swung  over  his 
back,  and  ho  faithfully  trudges  from  house  to  house  with  the 
staff  of  life.  Each  housekeeper  who  can  purchase  on  weekly  or 
monthly  payments  has  a  square  stick  given  her.  On  this  the 
bread-man  cuts  a  notch  for  each  loaf  delivered.  When  the  stick 
is  filled  he  simply  cuts  it  down,  taking  out  the  notches,  and  a 
new  bread-book  is  thus  opened.  The  donkey,  too,  is  the  lumber- 
wagon  ;  joists  of  all  lengths,  scantlings,  and  boards  are  loaded 
upon  the  little  fellow  lengthwise,  so  that  the  forward  ends  meet 
or  cross  over  his  liead,  and  the  diverging  ends  behind  come  close 
to  or  drag,  wide  apart,  on  the  ground.  Often  these  rear  ends  are 
six  and  eight  feet  apart,  and  as  the  donkey  bends  about  the 
crooked  streets  threaten  the  shins  of  the  pedestrian  in  a  fearful 
manner.  A  train  of  20  to  30  of  these  lumber-carriers  coming 
down  grade,  and  forcing  the  people  to  hug  closely  the  walls  or 
dodge  into  doorways,  is  an  amusing  sight.  But  one  never  sees 
any  one  angry  at  the  shifts  they  are  put  to  to  save  themselves. 
The  living  along  narrow,  crowded  streets  makes  every  one  ready 
for  the  "  give  and  take  in  life,"  which  may  be  called  one  of  its 
best  philosophies. 

Horses,  too,  are  used  for  pack-carriers.  They  carry  the  grain 
and  flour  from  one  part  of  the  city  to  another.     The  donkeys  are 


ffi'l 


THE  BAZAAR. 


337 


co-laborers,  however,  in  this.  Flour  is  distributed  from  the  mills 
to  the  bakers  in  lui^c,  sciuare,  curiously-tied  baj^s.  y\t  certain 
hours  trains  of  horses  and  ilonkeys  are  seen  in  do/ens,  fifties,  and 
hundreds  about  the  ^rain  and  flour  bazaars.  All  parts  of  streets 
devoted  to  special  trades  i)r  to  any  vending  purposes,  are  in  the 
East  called  bazaars.  The  "  shoe  bazaar,"  the  "  (Ireek  ba;'..i.ir," 
the  "  silk  bazaar,"  and  so  on  throutjh  the  w  hole  list  of  trades,  and 
of  nationalities  are  spoken  of  constantly.  iUit  in  Stamboul  there 
is  one  locality  callecl  "  the  bazaar."  It  is  of  f^reat  extent,  cover- 
ing many  acres,  2^  upward.  The  b.izaar  consists  of  a  lar^a-  num- 
ber of  narrow  streets,  with  shallow  shops  on  either  sitle,  supported 
by  columns  or  pillars,  and  covered  overheail  to  a  larjije  extent  by 
successions  of  small  domes  generally  ^dazeo.  When  the  sun  is 
hij^h  matting  is  more  or  less  spread  over  the  j;lazed  portions  of 
the  streets  and  over  the  roof  and  domes.  Tiicse  little  streets  are 
thus  shaded  and  tolerably  well  protected  from  rains,  and  beint^on 
u])-and-down  <;round,  and  having  many  Columns,  some  in  double 
and  others  in  triple  rows,  with  the  small  shops  displaying;  a  ^nx-at 
variety  of  wares  and  ^oods — silks,  calicoes,  and  carpels — running 
largely  to  cjaudy  colors:  the  shopkeepers  in  various  costumes, 
bri;4lit  j^irdles,  and  brilliant  red  fezes;  and  crossing  each  other  at 
every  kind  of  angle,  with  the  soft  light  coming  through  domes 
and  queer  roofs,  are  womlerfully  picturesque.  Here  one  can 
purchase  any  thing  and  every  thing,  and  get  fairly  cheateil  too. 
Shopkeepers  ply  the  foreigner  with  invitations  to  look  at  their 
stuffs.  "  Come  in,  sir.  This  i  >  he  place  you  want."  Another: 
"  Here,  effendi,  other  fellows  iheat  you.  I  sell  cheap.  I  cheap 
John.  Melkin  all  buy  from  me,"  and  so  on.  A  constant  fire  is 
kept  up  as  you  stumble  along,  for  your  eyes  are  so  attracted  by 
the  bright,  pretty  shops — all  open — that  your  feet  get  independ- 
ent and  are  apt  to  take  an  elevation.  Generally,  certain  streets 
or  localities  are  devoted  to  particular  trades.  Now  you  are 
among  carpet  dealers,  then  among  silk  and  embroidery  dealers. 
Men  do  their  work  in  the  front  of  their  cupboard-like  shops, 
working  with  their  hands  and  steadying  a  part  of  their  machinery 
with  their  toes.  The  foot  helps  the  hand  throughout  the  East. 
A  wMole  section  is  given  to  furniture  dealers,  and  a  table  or  chair 
is  being  made  on  the  edge  of  the  street  before  the  shop.  Then 
another  locality  is  occupied  by  brass-workers.  Men  arc  hammer- 
ing brass  into  cups  or  plates,  and  close  by  others  are  heating  the 
plates  or  bowls  and  zincking  or  leading  them  so  that  they  shine 
like  silver.  A  man  who  delights  to  watch  men  finds  food  for 
many  thoughts,  and  finds  whiling-away  places  for  many  an 
hour. 

The  Turk,  as  an  aggregation,  is  a  very  sick  man,  and  but  little 
fitted  for  this  age  and  for  his  position  so  close  to  western  activity. 
He  cannot  remain  much  longer  on  *he  Bosphorus.  The  world 
wants  it,  the  West  demands  it.     The  only  question  is  wWo  shall 


\\'\ 


\\ 


■:\\ 


.i       \ 


.'.I 


*.! 


m\ 


fi\ 


JJ8 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUW. 


M 


VA' 


■!!l  ,.  % 


IVA 


'  ''ii 


take  it ;  each  people  is  afraid  to  let  the  other  in.  But  for  that 
the  Turk  would  be  now  packing  up  and  nioviiv,'  eastward.  When 
he  is  gone  the  v/estern  traveller  will  have  lost  much  of  the  pictu- 
resque, for  the  go-ahead  ideas  of  the  West  cannot  stop  to  prescrvK: 
it.  I  wish  all  nations  could  come  to  an  agreement  and  make  a 
"  free  city  on  the  liosphorus,"  free  to  all  the  world.  I  would 
even  be  willing  that  Uncle  Sam  should  sail  in  his  chip. 

Undertheauspicesof  our  polite  Secretary  of  Legation,  Mr.  King, 
we  went  with  several  dozen  others  of  our  countrymen  to  witness 
the  Sultan's  progress  to  his  mosque.  He  performs  this  ceremony 
every  Friday  as  the  head  of  the  faithful.  Travellers  are  given  a 
large  room  in  a  handsome  building  fronting  llamidie  Mosque,  close 
to  Yieldiz  Kiosk,  the  palace  in  which  the  Sultan  resides.  There 
were  over  lOO  strangers  present,  some  of  thciu  very  distinguished 
people,  with  the  secretaries  of  their  respective  embassies.  As  our 
minister  was  not  present,  Mr.  King  adroitly  smuggled  me  into  a 
separate  small  room,  reserved  for  the  di])lomats,  in  which  th.ere 
were  onlj'  a  half  dozen.  There  I  had  a  fine  view  of  the  brilliant 
ceremony.  Regiment  after  regiment — 7,000  soldiers  in  all — came 
with  full  bands  and  stationed  themselves  around  the  large  square 
enclosing  the  riiosque.  They  were  handsomely  uniformed  and 
marched  admin.oly,  and  were  a  splendiil  body  of  men.  I  never 
saw  any  tro(  ps  in  any  land  surpass  two  regiments  of  cavalry,  or, 
perhaps,  more  properly  called,  mountctl  infantry.  The  men  were 
fine,  bold-looking  fellows,  and  the  horses  very  good,  some  of  those 
ritlden  by  the  officers  being  superb.  The  street  from  the  palace, 
200  yards  off,  and  the  court  of  the  moscjue  were  kept  sanded  and 
raked  down.  Fully  an  hour  was  consumed  in  marching  the  vari- 
ous regiments  into  position  and  getting  every  thing  ready  for  the 
mighty  head  of  the  church  throughout  Mohammedan  lands. 

When  all  was  in  readiness  a  ringing  shout  went  up  from  all  the 
soldiers,  apparently  most  hearty,  and  a  large  number  of  ofificers, 
in  gorgeous  uniforms,  appeared  on  fi:>ot.  followed  by  six  superb, 
pure-blooded  Arabian  horses,  under  saddle,  led  by  splendid 
grooms.  Following  the  riderless  horses  came  a  victoria,  drawn 
by  two  noble  white  Arabian  staliions.  In  this  open  carriage  the 
Sultan  came  from  the  palace  in  simple  sable-lined  caftan  and  red 
fez.  He  saluted  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  those  at  the  windows 
of  the  diplomatic  room  and  the  strangers  in  the  large  room.  At 
the  stejis  of  the  mosque  he  alighted  and  ascentied  alone  over  a 
rich  carpet. 

The  Muezzim  from  the  minaret  called  the  faithful  to  prayer. 
While  the  ruler  remained  in  the  mosque,  which  was  near  an  hour, 
delicious  coffee,  tea,  and  cigarettes  were  served  to  the  hunilred  or 
more  strangers,  and  the  soldiers  stood  at  rest.  Tiien  a  large  ami 
finely  drilled  band  mounted  a  terrace  near  the  mosque,  and  one 
by  one,  in  quick  step,  the  regiments  passed  before  a  window  in 
which  the  Sultan  stood.    This  was  a  splendid  pageant.    When  all 


J    ' 


i» 


V    • 


THE  SULTAN  OF  TURKEY. 


339 


had  passed,  the  Sultan's  mother  came  out  of  the  mosque,  and  as 
her  carriai^c  drove  by,  she  tlirew  money  to  poor  people  who  were 
bevond  one  of  the  files  of  scjldiery.  Then  the  Sultan  came  and 
entered  an  open  vehicle,  and  taking  the  reins,  drove  iiimself  back 
to  the  palace  surrounded  by  crowds  of  officers,  running  before  and 
about  the  carriage. 

Again,  in  passing,  the  ruler  gave  a  very  cordial  salute  to  our 
windows.  While  the  soldiers  were  marching  before  him  a  couple 
of  aides  came  to  say  that  the  Sultan  sent  his  compliments  to  the 
distinguished  strangers  who  paid  this  mark  of  respect  to  the  re- 
ligious ceremony  of  the  ".Salaam-lick."  And  sometime  later 
anotlu'r  aide-de-camp  came  into  the  room  I  was  in  and  said  that 
"  the  Sultan  had  inquired  who  we  were,  and  on  learning  our  names, 
thanked  us  for  coming  to  thus  honor  this  holy  ceremony,"  or 
something  to  that  effect.  I  rather  doubted  that  this  latter  special 
message  had  been  sent,  but  I  afterwards  met  the  aide  and  was  in- 
formed that  my  card  with  my  rust  position  had  been  sent  in  to 
the  chamberlain  by  our  Secreta.iy  of  Legation  ;  that  the  sultan  had 
asked  who  occupied  the  diplomatic  window  ;  that  this  and  the 
Earl  of  Clarendon's  card  had  been  handed  him,  and  he  then  sent 
the  message. 

The  Sultan  is  a  small,  slight  man,  verj'  thin,  and  wearing  a  care- 
worn, Inggard  look".  lie  is  said  to  be  \'ery  timid,  and,  owing  to 
some  prophecy,  is  in  constant  fear  that  he  will  be  assassinated, 
and  by  a  stranger.  lie  regulates  his  every  action  by  the  con- 
junctions of  the  ])lanets ;  keeps  ambassadors  frequently  awaiting 
an  audience  for  weeks  because  of  some  baleful  crossing  of  star- 
lines.  I  heartl  of  an  amusing  evidence  of  his  nervous  alarm  when 
Lew  Wallace  was  our  minister,  and  which  the  minister  of 
course  coulil  not  tell.  It  was  wdien  the  British  fleet  was  occu- 
pying a  tlireatening  position  off  Alexandria.  The  Sultan  asked 
liini  to  induce  the  United  States  to  propose  to  mediate,  and  thus 
prevent  liloodshed.  The  minister  telegraphed  to  the  govern- 
ment at  Washington,  got  its  consent,  and  then  presented  the 
matter  to  Lord  Dufferin,  the  English  ambassador,  who  could  not 
decline  Hut  the  prevention  of  bloodshed  was  not  what  England 
wanted.  So  the  wily  earl  cpiietly  cabled  the  British  admiral  that 
he  would  do  well  to  fire  a  shot,  and  thus  set  the  bail  in  motion, 
before  his  government  could  hear  of  the  proposed  mediation. 
The  shot  was  fired,  antl  after  midnight  the  Turkish  ruler,  hearing 
of  it,  hurried  an  officer  off  to  bring  our  minister  post-haste  to  the 
]Kihce.  Wallace  rushed  off.  half  dressed,  brushing  his  hair  as  he 
rode,  ami  found  the  Sultan  in  a  state  of  fearful  trepidation.  The 
pallitl  ruler  informed  him  of  what  had  happened  and  asked  him 
what  he  was  to  do.  The  blunt  Republican  scratched  his  head  a 
moment  and  then  replied:  "  There  is  but  one  thing  to  be  done, 
and  th.it  your  majesty  should  do  at  once."  The  grateful  Turk 
asked  what  it  was.     "  Your  majesty  should  place  yourself  at  the 


iH 


i  .:A 


!  ) 


V\\ 


\  n 


340 


A  MACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


"  ,1  A 


' 


I  i- 


head  of  the  army  in  person,  and  proceed  immediately  to  Egypt." 
The  poor  monarch  came  very  near  swooning. 

There  are  three  regular  Sundays  in  Constantinople — Friday  for 
the  Mohammedans,  Saturday  for  the  Jews,  who  keep  it  in  most 
orthodox  sacredness,  and  Sunday  for  the  Christians ;  of  the  latter 
the  Greeks  and  Armenians  are  the  greatest  in  numbers  ;  I  think, 
over  400,000. 

Travellers  go  on  Friday  to  see  the  dancing  and  howling 
Dervishes.  The  latter  is  an  English  misnomer.  They  are  a  sect 
called  Heurleurs.  One  of  their  ceremonies  is  a  ritual  by  a  mullah, 
responded  to  by  the  brothers  and  worshippers,  who,  as  they  re- 
spond, sway  themselves,  while  standing  in  line,  from  one  side  to 
the  other  and  jerking  the  head,  all  the  while  uttering  the  name 
of  Allah  in  some  prayerful  phrase.  As  their  fervor  increases  the 
sideway  motion  becomes  more  and  more  extended  and  the  head- 
jerking  more  and  more  rapid,  until  they  appear  to  be  almost  in  a 
species  of  fit.  This  action  is  continued  for  nearly  an  hour.  The 
sweat  pours  from  their  faces,  and  their  heads  look  as  if  they  would 
be  jerked  off.  As  the  fervor  increases  one  by  one  of  the  audience 
join  the  line.  When  we  were  present  a  coal-black  Ethiopian,  an 
officer  of  the  army,  put  on  the  robe.  He  was  a  splendid  specimen 
of  manhood,  and  threw  his  whole  soul  into  the  thing.  Sweat 
rolled  from  his  ebon  cheeks,  and  at  times  his  head  really  looked 
as  if  it  would  leave  his  shoulders.  Each  motion  drew  from  him 
the  prayer  to  Allah  in  convulsive  grunts.  An  American  lady 
present  became  quite  excited.  I  thought  I  saw  her  features 
twitch  in  involuntary  nervous  sympathy.  After  this  ritual  is  over 
many  of  the  faithful,  and  many  children  who  are  more  or  less  sick, 
lie  prone  upon  the  floor,  and  the  head  mullah,  or  priest,  walks  over 
them,  treading  upon  each,  and  then  one  by  one  blows  upon  their 
fo-es,  when  they  go  off  happy,  if  not  cured.  Babies  in  arms  are 
simply  blown  upon  and  touched.  The  worshippers  seem  most 
intense  in  their  devotion,  and  solemn  in  its  performance. 

The  dancing  or  whirling  Dervishes,  after  praying  for,  say  half 
an  hour  with  many  prostrations,  then  range  themselves  around  a 
circular  floor  in  the  centre  of  the  mosque  and  listen  to  a  peculiar 
music  performed  by  a  part  of  their  order,  and  to  a  litany  read  by 
their  high  priest,  all  the  time  marching  in  single  file  around  the 
outer  circle,  each  bowing  low,  when  opposite  and  farthest  from 
the  "  mecca  "  of  the  mosque — that  is,  the  part  corresponding  to 
the  altar  in  a  Christian  church,  and  always  on  the  side  of  the 
building  pointing  to  the  holy  city  of  Mecca,  and  when  on  the 
circle  next  to  the  mecca,  each  one  with  a  peculiar  step,  turns  and 
faces  the  brother  next  following  him,  and  each  bowing  low  one  to 
the  other;  as  this  part  of  the  ceremony  progresses,  the  music  be- 
comes more  fervid,  when,  one  by  one,  the  Dervishes  will  begin  to 
spin  around  as  on  a  pivot,  and  at  the  same  time  circling  around 
the  room.    Each  one  spins  more  or  less  rapidly,  as  he  may  choose, 


EASTER  SUNDAY. 


341 


jypt- 


but  all  go  around  the  room  in  the  same  period,  and  all  extend  their 
arms  straight  out  as  they  thus  waltz.  Their  dress  is  a  high,  coni- 
cal cap,  and  a  long,  full  skirt  coming  to  the  feet  and  bound  in  at 
the  waist.  As  they  spin  the  skirt  extends  in  proportion  to  the 
speed  of  their  motion — that  of  those  moving  very  rapidly  taking 
the  form  of  a  widely  extended  funnel.  I  counted  the  revolutions 
of  one  of  the  worshippers.  It  was  58  in  the  minute.  This 
motion  he  kept  up  for  perhaps  a  half  hour,  and  when  stopping 
showed  no  sign  of  dizziness.  There  were  30  odd  on  the  floor  at 
once,  but  only  one  moved  with  this  great  rapidity.  Two  of 
them  were  young  novitiates,  somewhere  from  ten  to  twelve  years 
of  age.  The  whole  thing  proceeded  with  great  solemnity  and 
decorum,  and  all  seemed  fervid  and  earnest. 

On  I-lastcr  Sunday  wc  went  to  the  fine  ceremony  in  the  Metro- 
politan Greek  Church  in  Stamboul.  The  patriarch  and  bishops 
marclicd  in  exquisite  and  very  rich  robes,  all  with  brilliant  caps, 
that  of  the  patriarch  being  of  wonderful  richness  and  beauty. 
The  cluircli  was  painfully  packed,  the  people  swaying  back  and 
forth  from  tlie  pressure  and  movement  of  the  outer  lines.  The 
ambassadors  of  the  countries  adliering  to  the  Greek  faith  were 
present  in  their  full  court  dresses,  in  seats  next  the  altar.  One  of 
their  dragomen,  seeing  us  in  the  swaying  mass,  worked  his  way 
to  us,  and,  extricating  us,  got  us  prominent  seats.  A  part  of  the 
ceremony  was  the  reading,  in  twelve  different  languages,  the  story 
of  the  reappearance  of  Christ  to  his  disciples  and  the  doubts  of 
Thomas.  After  the  ceremony  was  over  the  favored  guests  were 
conducted  to  a  hall  in  the  Metropolitan  building,  adjoining  the 
church.  Into  this  the  patriarch  and  the  bishops  then  came,  and 
his  lioliness,  holding  a  golden  cross,  gave  his  hand  to  be  kissed  by 
the  believers,  saying  something  to  each  as  they  did  so,  and  giving 
to  eacli  beautifully  gilded  and  dyed  Easter-eggs  tied  in  a  piece  of 
muslin.  To  the  principal  guests  he  gave  four  eggs,  to  all  others 
three.  After  the  grandees  and  their  ladies  had  kissed  his  hand,  I 
got  to  him  and  asked  in  French  that  an  American  might  be  per- 
mitted to  pay  his  respects.  He  had  in  his  hand  a  bundle  of  three 
eggs  to  give  me,  but  he  at  once  reached  back  and  got  one  of 
four,  and  gave  them  to  me  with  some  kindly  spoken  words,  which 
I  couUi  not  understand,  for  they  were  in  Greek. 

I  had  some  most  agreeable  interviews  with  our  accomplished 
minister,  Mr.  Straus,  whose  mugwump  proclivities  do  not  prevent 
his  being  a  most  industrious  representative  of  our  government 
and  a  most  popular  gentleman  with  all  visiting  Americans.  Mrs. 
Straus  is  greatly  admired,  and  entertains  beautifully.  She  honored 
us  by  giving  us  a  dinner,  and  afterward  having  us  at  an  evening 
reception. 

I  have  spoken  of  Constantinople  as  the  imperial  heart  of  a 
mighty  contimint,  but  now  I  would,  if  I  had  the  power,  paint  it 
in  its  beauty  —the  jewel  of  the  world.     Nature  was  in  high  revelry 


'K-, 


f  >  t 


fell/, 


'h  \\ 


\\ 


■  ■    J*    ■'  »  i 

*»  '♦'  'I  •  ■ 


viim 


'W' 


')    I' 


342 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


i  ■ ' 


[•! 


il' 


when  she  conceived  its  site,  and  the  genius  of  beauty,  drunken 
with  ravishing  dreams,  was  handmaiden  at  its  birth.  All  v>\ 
nature's  treasures  were  ransacked  for  material  to  build  it,  and  not 
a  color  was  lacking  on  the  palette  from  which  it  was  painted  as  it 
grew.  Mountains  were  dwarfed  into  hills  for  its  foundations — 
hills  retaining  all  the  bold  outlines  and  picturesque  contour  of 
mountains.  Seas  were  spun  into  rivers  and  woven  into  its  struc- 
ture— sea-rivers  of  vast  depth  and  so  darkly  green  that  they  look 
like  liquid  emeralds  thrown  into  deep  shadow;  while  the  liills  are 
so  bright  that  they  seem  carpeted  with  emerald  velvet  bathed  in 
a  flood  of  sunlight.  Not  e.vhausted  by  her  work  when  the  site  of 
the  city  was  completed,  nature  scattered  her  surplus  treasures  and 
built  be?aitiful  islands  in  the  deep  sea  close  by.  She  would  leave 
nothing  undone  to  make  this  city  imperial  in  beauty,  so  she 
spread  over  it  all  a  sky  gloriously   bright,  yet   tender  and  soft. 

The  Bosphorus  is  about  15  miles  long,  winding,  twisting,  and 
bending,  and  swelling  into  rounded  bays,  between  the  Black  Sea 
and  the  Marmora.  It  varies  from  a  half  mile  to  perhaps  a  mile 
and  a  half  in  width,  and  has  a  depth  in  some  parts  of  60  fathom 
and  everywhere  deep  enough  for  the  largest  ships.  It  has  no 
tide,  but  sweeps  with  majestic  force  from  the  lilack  Sea,  in  some 
points  with  a  current  of  nine  miles  an  hour.  Throughout  its 
length  noble  hills  and  mountains  lift  from  the  water's  edge,  and 
spurs,  divided  by  narrow  valleys  or  gorges,  running  down  in  bold 
ridges,  with  here  and  there  coves  or  deep  creeks  shooting  back 
into  the  hills.  The  largest  of  these  creeks  is  the  Golden  Horn, 
near  the  Marmora,  over  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide  at  its  mouth  and 
running  back  with  diminishing  width  some  three  miles  into 
a  small  stream  of  fresh  water,  "  the  .sweet  waters  of  Europe." 
The  point  lying  between  the  Golden  Horn,  the  Bosphorus,  and 
the  sea  contains  the  "  Old  Seraglio,"  now  a  waste  of  unused 
palaces  and  unkempt  gardens.  This  is  called  Seraglio  Point,  and 
rises  rather  rapidly  from  the  water  to  200  or  more  feet,  and, 
though  neglected,  is  most  picturesque  when  .seen  from  the  sea  ami 
from  the  liospliorus.  The  gardens  and  old  palaces  cover  100  to 
200  acres,  and  are  surrounded  by  a  high  wall,  which,  on  the  water 
side,  is  massive  and  dingy  with  age.  Within  these  walls  have 
been  committed  more  silent  deeds  of  intrigue  and  crime  than  on 
any  other  spot  of  its  si/.e  on  earth.  Many  a  disgraced  favorite 
and  many  a  suspected  wife  and  concubine  has  been  silently 
.slipped  into  the  river,  whose  vast  depths  never  told  the  tale. 
Many  a  rightful  heir,  and  not  a  few  emperors  and  sultans  them- 
selves, have  here  met  their  doom,  and  no  living  mortal  dared  ask 
whither  they  had  gone.  Here  crime  has  held  high  court  under 
Roman  and  Christian  emperors,  and  under  Moslem  sultans,  and 
knew  no  relenting  until  fire  drove  the  rulers  to  other  cjuarters. 

On  the  highest  elevation  of  the  point,  and   immediately  behind 
the  garden  and  palace  walls,  stands  the  Mosque  of  St.  Sophia, 


ST.  SOPHIA. 


343 


with  its  mighty  flattened  dome,  lifting  out  of  and  over  other  and 
smaller  domes,  whose  arches  support  the  grander  one,  and 
lightened  by  four  beautiful  and  lofty  minarets.  This  is  the  noblest 
edifice  ever  erected  for  the  worship  of  the  one  living  God,  and  is 
the  oldest  of  His  churches,  which  has  always  and  continuously 
been  used  for  worship.  For  over  i,ooo  years  it  was  the  most 
holy  of  Christian  temples,  and  when  the  Cross  was  removed 
the  Crescent  immediately  took  its  place,  and  the  building  became 
the  most  exalted  of  Islam  mosques,  'iiic  minarets  do  not  deface, 
but  rather  add  to  the  architectural  perfections  of  the  original 
design.  They  arj  to  me  the  perfect  complement  of  the  swelling 
dome  for  a  place  of  worship.  I  cannot  calmly  look  upon  a  noble 
mosque  without  a  feeling  of  religious  sentiment  filling  my  heart. 
Were  there  no  associations  connected  with  the  grandest  of  gothic 
cathedrals,  I  would  look  upon  them  only  with  cold  admiration. 
The  "  Taj  "  for  awhile  almost  sanctified  the  bad  woman  who 
sleeps  beneath  its  rounded  vault.  I  have  to  recall  the  effects  of 
Islamism  to  prevent  the  cold  marble  in  dome  and  minaret  in  a 
fine  mosque  arousing  a  feeling  of  reverence  for  the  Koran.  It  is 
the  "  cJiuse  "  of  Christ  which  makes  me  venerate  even  the  grandest 
gothic  church.  It  is,  however,  not  until  after  entering  St.  Sophia 
and  walking  around  its  vast  interior,  and  then  standing  beneath 
the  overhanging  vault  that  the  wonderful  perfections  of  the  edifice 
sink  into  the  soul.  At  first  one  is  disappointed  ;  the  proportions 
arc  so  fine  that  it  looks  small;  but  it  grows  and  grows  until  the 
effect  is  almost  painfully  impressive.  Perhaps  the  associations 
have  much  to  do  with  this.  The  centuries  which  rolled  along 
while  the  worship  of  the  true  God  was  held  there — the  memory 
of  the  thousands  of  old  men,  women,  and  children  who  were 
packed  within  its  walls  for  sanctuary,  when  the  blood-stained 
Turks  rushed  in  and  gorged  themselves  with  slaughter.  The 
recollection  of  the  cry  of  "  Illaha  il  Allah,  Mohammed  resoul 
Allah  !  "  uttered  by  IMohammcd  II.,  when  he  tore  down  the  Cross 
with  his  blood-dyed  hands  and  planted  the  Cresent  in  its  place. 
These  memories  rushed  upon  me  as  I  stood  under  the  mighty 
dome,  and  filled  me  with  a  sentiment  of  admiration  and  awe  no 
other  church  ever  caused. 

A  mullah  was  sitting  upon  his  cushions  preaching  to  some 
30  or  40  men  squatted  about  him.  I  could  now  and  then 
catch  some  long  ago  familiar  Arabic  word,  but  could  not  under- 
stand a  thing  he  was  saying  ;  but  never  in  my  life  have  I  listened 
to  such  perfect  declamation — now  in  plain  colloquial  tone,  telling 
them  of  something  connected  with  their  religion  or  their  duty, 
then  in  winning  persuasion  drawing  them  to  him  ;  then,  with 
almost  fierce  invective  telling  them  of  some  wrong  or  sin,  with 
gestures  all  the  while  suited  precisely  to  the  tone,  and,  I  felt,  to 
the  words.  I  did  not  understand  a  single  word  spoken,  yet  I  felt 
sure  I   knew  wliat  he  was  saying.     I  stood  and  listened  spell- 


m 


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344 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


''\    I 


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\  \ 


i|    f, 


bound  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  could  have  stayed  longer 
with  pleasure.  Ah  !  there  is  an  oratory  which  is  born  of  nature. 
It  is  not  in  phrase  nor  in  flowing  words ;  it  conies  from  the  heart. 
Heart  and  brain  speak  to  heart  and  brain.  The  rapt  attention 
and  the  occasional  ejaculations  of  this  mullah's  hearers  proved  to 
me  this  man  spoke  from  the  heart  and  reached  the  heart  ;  that  he 
was  one  of  nature's  orators. 

Close  by  St.  Sophia  is  another  noble  mosque,  Achmet,  large 
and  with  six  minarets.  Then,  farther  back,  are  many  others,  all 
more  or  less  patterned  after  St.  Sophia,  scattered  throughout 
Stamboul,  as  the  city  swells  and  widens,  and  the  Golden  Horn 
and  the  sea  diverge  more  and  more,  until  some  three  miles 
back,  runs  the  grand  old  Roman  wall  of  great  height  and  vast 
thickness,  and  relieved  every  few  hundred  yards  by  massive  tow- 
ers. This  wall  commences  in  the  ruins  of  a  large  fortress  on  the 
sea,  with  seven  towers,  and  stretches  some  three  miles  to  the 
Golden  Horn.  The  wall  and  towers  are  broken  and  wrecked, 
covered  with  ivy  and  hanging  plants,  with  large  slirubs  lifting 
from  the  top  and  broken  sides,  presenting  a  most  picturesque 
appearance.  Within  this  wall  and  between  the  waters  is  a'  popu- 
lation of  some  700,000  ;  Turks,  Jews,  Greeks,  and  Armenians, 
each  nationality  living  in  its  separate  quarter. 

Across  the  Golden  Horn  come  Pera,  Gallatta,  and  other  towns, 
now  grown  into  one.  The  highest  part  of  this  is  perhaps  400  or 
500  feet.  Through  these  towns,  or  parts  of  towns,  run  deep 
narrow  valleys,  the  bottoms  beautiful  in  gardens  of  trees,  vines, 
and  vegetables.  The  steep  sides  of  the  hills  which  enclose 
these  gorges,  and  along  their  ridges,  are  covered  by  houses  of 
several  stories  on  the  lower  fronts,  but  running  into  the  hillside 
on  the  other.  In  some  localities  the  buildings  are  all  white  in 
stucco,  and  many  of  them  palatial  in  size  and  architecture  ;  in 
others,  weather-stain_d  wooden  buildings,  leaning  against  the 
hills,  with  their  fronts  of  three  to  five  stories,  bold  and  yet  pretty, 
covered  by  latticed  balconies  or  projecting  windows,  resting  upon 
long  brackets  and  jutting  far  over  the  narrow  streets.  These 
never  knew  glaring  paint,  but  are  tinted  by  time  and  the  weather 
in  artistic  tone.  The  streets  are  narrow  and  very  crooked,  having 
never  been  laid  out,  but  the  first  houses  being  erecteil  to  suit  the 
convenience  of  the  owners,  the  streets  adapted  themselves  to  those 
built,  and  others  sprang  up  along  the  bending  ways.  Although 
from  the  streets  and  the  crooked  alleys  and  lanes  leading  into 
them  the  ground  seems  covered  with  structures,  yet  when  viewed 
from  an  elevation  or  from  a  distance  it  is  seen  that  in  little  courts 
among  the  houses  there  are  so  many  trees — fruit  or  flowering — so 
many  that  the  city  seems  half  embowered  in  shade.  Besides, 
about  many  of  the  imposing  structures,  hidden  behind  lofty 
walls,  are  charming  gardens,  some  of  considerable  extent.  These 
add  greatly  to  the  bower-like  tone  of  the  town. 


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A  WONDROUS  PICTURE. 


54S 


Across  the  Bosphorus,  opposite  Stamboul  and  Pera,  lies  the 
old  city  of  Scutari,  for  centuries  held  by  the  Turivs  before  they 
won  the  European  shore.  This  town,  with  one  above  and 
another  below,  has  a  population  of  300,000  to  400,000,  grows  out 
of  the  water  and  climbs  the  steep  hij^h  hills,  and  is  dominated 
by  a  mountain  over  2,000  feet  high.  From  this,  one  gets 
the  finest  view  of  human  life  combined  with  nature's  beauties  in 
the  world.  Almost  under  it  lies  the  old  tumble-down  Turkish 
town,  with  cemeteries  of  large  size,  in  several  localities  quite  in 
the  town,  densely  shaded  by  tall  spire-like  cypress  trees  in  som- 
bre funereal  green.  Then  farther,  yet  apparently  almost  under 
one,  the  grand  liosphorus,  bending  and  doubling  between  lofty 
inountains,  on  whose  steep  sides  are  many  villages  or  suburbs 
springing  out  of  the  river's  edge  and  climbing  high  up  on  the 
steep  slopes  or  far  into  the  gorges  which  bore  into  the  hills  ;  sev- 
eral magnificent  palaces  of  sultan  and  pashas,  with  long,  beautiful 
facades  laved  in  the  emerald  floods,  line  the  two  shores,  but  more 
especially  the  European  opposite.  There  lies  Stamboul  and 
Pera,  with  their  mosques,  with  domes  in  masses  and  minarets 
pointing  towards  the  sky,  and  with  bright  palaces  and  white 
houses  and  softly-tinted  old  wooden  buildings,  all  embowered  in 
green,  and  softened  and  toned  to  a  delicious  coloring,  the  whole 
having  the  appearance  of  having  been  laid  out  and  built  less  for 
use  than  for  picturesque  effect  ;  over  and  beyond  Pera  are  the 
hills  or  mountains  with  their  nearer  sides  covered  with  cypress 
groves,  in  which  with  the  glass  are  seen  the  turbaned  headstones 
of  the  Turks,  or  dotted  with  Arab  graveyards  resembling  in  the 
distance  rock-  and  boulder-covered  slopes  all  glaring  in  the  sun- 
light ;  and  still. beyond,  stretch  the  soft  outline  of  the  hills  car- 
peted in  velvety  green.  The  cities  and  towns  below  are  so 
large  that  they  are  the  homes  of  1,500,000  .souls. 

Running  back  and  through  these  arc  gorges  or  narrow  valleys, 
with  their  bottoms  green  in  trees  and  gardens,  and  at  this  sea- 
son of  the  year  brilliant  in  blooming  acacia  and  other  flowering 
trees  and  shrubs.  Looking  to  the  right  are  the  broken  hills  and 
deep  waters  climbing  towards  the  Black  Sea  ;  looking  to  the  left, 
is  the  smooth  Marmora,  with  hilly  islands  close  by,  studded  with 
villas  and  villages,  and  over  and  beyond,  lofty  Olympus,  wrapped 
in  a  sheet  of  purest  snow,  and  all  overhead  spans  a  soft,  pearly 
blue  sky  with  fleecy  clouds  lightly  swimming  upon  the  vaulteu, 
ethereal  blue.  As  we  sate  and  took  in  this  wondrous  picture,  or, 
rather,  succession  of  pictures,  a  little  skylark  rising  close  by  com- 
menced its  love  song  ;  up  it  climbed  in  spirals,  now  to  the  right, 
then  turned  to  the  left  ;  higher  and  higher,  singing  all  the  while, 
until  it  was  a  mere  speck  against  the  sky.  There  it  fluttered 
and  poured  out  its  heart  in  pleading,  loving  agony,  and,  overcome 
by  its  own  passion,  fell,  singing  as  it  fell,  as  if  afraid  that  the 
spell  of  its  carol  would  be  lost  to  its  mate,  until  within  10  to 


I,  ^1 


I 


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t 


7     M 


''I 


346 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


20  feet  of  the  ground  it  sang  as  if  its  heart  was  bursting 
with  song.  I  bent  my  eyes  and  walked  slowly  down  the  hill  to 
our  horses,  unwilling  to  take  another  look.  I  wanted  to  carry 
away  the  picture  crystallized  in  one  perfect  instant,  and  shall  try 
to  retain  it  until  one  boundless  vision  of  perfected  beauty  sliall 
fill  my  soul  and  one  endless  carol  shall  fill  my  heart  throughout 
an  eternal  morning. 


h^ 


m 


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:.'     ri^      !i, 


I   J 


ill! 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


THE  nOSrilORUS  — ACROSS   HUI.C.ARIA  — liUCHAREST  — ROUMANIA. 
ITS  I'EOrLE— Al'l'KARANCE  AND  PRODUCTIONS. 

Buda-Pesi/i,  May  19,  18S8. 

At  four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  the  12th,  we  wciglicd 
anchor  and  steamed  out  of  the  Golden  Horn,  and  up  the  Hos- 
phorus  for  the  Black  Sea,  on  our  way  to  Varna.  Travellers  often 
write  that  one  of  the  drawbacks  to  the  pleasure  of  travellinjj  is 
the  necessity  of  parting  so  frequently  with  friends  made  en 
-ivyn^c.  To  me  this  is  not  the  case;  I  am  so  occupied  with  the 
things  I  see  that  I  do  not  make  many  such  friends,  but  I  do  make 
friendship  with  the  places  we  visit,  and  there  are  few  I  do  not 
quit  with  regret.  This  has  been  more  the  case  in  this  our  "  race 
with  the  sun,"  than  on  any  previous  journeying.  There  is  so  much 
in  such  a  voj-age  around  the  world  that  seems  typical  of  the 
voyage  of  life  that  there  comes  over  me  an  irresistible  feeling 
that  I,  too,  will  finish  my  course  with  the  end  of  the  trip.  I 
believe  I  never  have  now  what  arc  called  the  "  blues,"  and  rarely 
get  low-spirited,  but  as  we  pass  around  this  globe  of  ours,  the 
spot  on  which  we  stand  is  to  us  the  highest  of  the  rounded  world, 
and  to  it  we  have  been  climbing;  and  each  day  a  part  of  the 
world  is  left  behind,  and  still  fewer  heights  are  to  be  gained. 
When  we  stood  upon  east  longitude  92^°  we  were  almost  oppo- 
site the  starting-point  of  our  course,  and  day  by  day  afterwards 
the  mile  posts  behind  became  more  than  the  posts  before  us,  and 
day  by  day  the  miles  to  be  cleared  became  fewer  and  fewer,  and 
the  distance  looked  back  upon  grew  in  magnitude.  So  with  the 
voyage  of  life.  With  our  eyes  looking  aloft,  the  climb  to  the 
meridional  zenith  of  our  days  is  slow,  and  with  the  quick  pulsa- 
tions of  active  energy,  our  hearts  swell  and  teem  with  hope.  But 
ah  !  Rapidly  pass  the  days  when  the  down  grade  is  reached. 
Then  comes  the  solace  of  true  philosophy — that  philosophy 
which  teaches  the  necessity  of  quickened  action  and  steady 
exertion,  and  a  calm  resignation  to  the  inevitable.  Then  more 
than  even  before,  is  valuable  that  best  of  all  rules  for  life,  "  Do 
all  that  is  possible  to-day  and  hope  for  the  morrow." 

While  I  did  not  wish  to  stay  longer  in  Constantinople,  yet 
when  I  looked  back  upon  the  glorious  picture  it  made,  and  passed 

347 


'11 


.4  1  ? 


4," 


s 


348 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


1        I 


.1'       ■'!  • 


,1  '■    i 


^\  f.  u 


i    % 


lip  'I 


^;': 


uj)  tlic  Bosphnrus  and  drank  in  its  uncqualcd  beauties,  I  could 
not  repress  a  ileep  si^di  tliat  I  at  least  could  never  a^Min  behold 
them.  The  sun  was  dropping  over  the  iiills,  now  entirely  hid- 
ilen,  then  bursting  out  in  all  of  ids  ^lory  as  some  j^or^e  would 
open  or  v.dley  would  carr\-  the  sky  line  farther  toward  the  west ; 
now  we  were  sailinj^  over  the  deep  j;reen  water  rollini^  alon^ 
in  majestic  s\\  eei)s  ;  then  we  would  round  some  j)rojectiny  prom- 
onotory  where  the  currents  rush  in  rapid  fury.  Now  a  palace 
would  dip  its  feet  into  the  cool  depths,  and  beautiful  ^Mrdens 
and  ^Teen  woods  would  mantle  the  hills  above  it  ;  and  then  a 
village  would  steal  down  some  deep  yor<^'e  in  modest  beauty, 
and  come  to  the  river  as  if  half  ashamed  of  its  assurance;  here 
an  old  castle  perched  itself  upon  a  hit;!!  rock,  and  sent  massive 
walls  /'.i^/.a^f|^nn<;  about  steep  precipices,  as  if  the  only  idea  of 
the  builder  was  to  attain  the  very  extreme  of  the  picturescjue  ; 
and  there  a  mountain  would  run  j^ently  back  with  easyslope,  and 
some  rich  man's  house  would  crown  its  distant  heif^ht,  anil  fields 
would  wave  in  swaying  crops.  I'assin.i^  the  earthworks  of  the 
Turk,  we  entered  the  Hlack  Sea  just  as  the  sun  sank  behind  the 
reddened  horizon  of  the  west ;  lowering  clouds  hung  upon  the 
north,  where  the  Russian  bear  was  about  to  jirowl  around  his 
Arctic  home,  and  to  hug  to  his  heart  his  one  fond,  never-dying 
hope  of  building  his  lair  among  the  hills  of  Stamboul. 

The  Black  Sea  was  dark  and  calm  when  the  night  gathered 
<ibout  us,  and  early  in  the  morning  we  entered  the  little  rounded, 
but  not  well-protected  harbor  of  Varna,  the  only  S(;a-coast  town 
of  Bulgaria.  This,  from  the  water,  is  a  pretty-looking  place  of 
25,000  population,  but,  1  was  told,  is  dirty  and  unattractive  within. 
Surrounding  it  and  the  little  bay  in  front,  are  high  hills  of  600 
or  800  feet  in  height,  'Standing  some  distance  from  the  water. 
Along  the  crests  of  the  ri'i|';es  are  seen  numbers  of  earthworks. 
One  was  pointed  out  as  h.wing  been  thrown  up  by  the  first 
Napoleon.  It  was  dri.^'.ling  and  rainy  when  we  were  rowed 
ashore.  Here,  as  n(.arl\  everywhere  in  the  Kast,  there  are  no 
piers  for  ships  to  tie  to,  but  all  lie  pretty  well  out.  The  bad 
weather  prevented  us  stopping  to  witness  the  review  promised  to 
be  held  by  Fertlinand,  Prince  of  Bulgaria,  on  the  day  of  our 
arrival.  I  wished  to  see  how  the  jjcople  looked  upon  their  exotic 
ruler.  I  am  rather  down  on  the  whole  system  of  such  transplant- 
ing, and  I  have  an  idea  the  several  peoples  feel  the  same  way. 
You  know  the  old  song  : 

"  .Some  wicked  men  in  olden  times 

Threw  Daniel  in  the  i\i;\\  of  the  lions. 

The  lions  for  Daniel  did  n't  eare  a 

And  Daniel  did  n't  eare  a for  the  lions." 

George  and  the  people  of  Greece  evidently  look  upon  each 
other  as  Daniel  and  the  lions  did,  and  1  am  told  the  same  feeling 


I   ii 


l« 


SO/.n//:RS,  SOLDIERS  F.VERYWirERE. 


34<J 


exists  in  all  these  ])rincipalities,  whose  princes  were  drawn  from 
tlic  ro)'al  stables  of  Denmark  and  Germany. 

The  streets  of  Varna,  where  wc  could  see  them,  were,  however, 
bannered  and  decorated  in  honor  of  the  prince's  coming; 
flowers  and  garlands  hung  about  all  the  stations  along  our  road 
to  Rostcliuk,  and  the  people  looked  as  if  they  were  pleased  with 
the  show  al)out  to  be  given  them.  What  a  trick  it  is  of  kings 
and  "  sich  "  to  tickle  the  people  with  sliows  and  pastimes,  anil 
what  "  fools  we  mortals  be "  to  be  so  tickled  ;  but  we  are.  I 
sometimes  think  that  all  of  the  sympathy  wc  feel  for  the  oppressed 
is  hardly  deserved  by  tiiem,  so  willingly,  or  at  least  so  tamely, 
do  the  majority  yield  the  neck  to  the  yoke.  I'ageants  and  shows, 
too,  are  so  cheap.  A  few  thousand  spent  in  amusing  the  masses 
go  fai-tner  than  a  great  many  thousands  paid  to  murder  them. 
But  over  here  even  the  bullet  is  gildeil,  and  the  spear  has  a 
jiretty  banner  attached  to  it.  I  was  in  Fisher'.s  huge  magazine 
the  other  daj'  at  Buda-Pesth,  admiring  liis  exquisite  majolicas. 
His  salesman  stopped  mc  while  bargaining,  that  we  might  go  to 
the  door  to  listen  to  a   grand  band,  and  to  see  several  regiments 


marching  bv.     "  Es  ist   schon,   nicht   uahr,   meinherr? 


Yah 


wohl,"  I  replied.  "Those  fellows  could  kill  a  great  many  Rus- 
sians in  a  day,  and  a  big  crowd  of  unruly  Hungarians  in  a  min- 
ute." He  understood  me,  and  for  a  while  seemed  to  be  thinking. 
He  then  asked  me  if  wc  had  many  soldiers.  I  told  him  about 
30,000,  "  but  then  we  have  a  population  of  only  60,000,000."  I 
cannot  help  it,  though  it  is  none  of  my  business,  but  I  cannot 
enjoy  looking  at  a  grand  parade  of  men  paid  to  kill,  especially 
in  Europe,  where  kings  pretend  to  be  followers  of  Him  whose 
mission  on  earth  was  one  of  "  love  and  peace."  From  Varna  to 
this  place  a  soldier  is  rarely  out  of  sight,  and  from  our  car 
windows  we  saw  regiments  and  battalions  drilling  on  the  out- 
skirts  of  every  moderately-sized  town.  Officers  covered  with 
lace  are  brighter  in  coloring  than  the  butterfly-ladics  at  all  high- 
toned  cafes  and  gardens,  and  the  clank  of  their  sword-scabbards 
on  the  stone  flagging  and  asphalt  walks,  is  always  heard  on 
every  corso  and  fashionable  promenade.  They  loll  back  covered 
with  orders  and  cordons  in  the  finest  equipages  on  every  after- 
noon drive,  and  their  prancing  steeds  are  cr^nstantly  careering 
along  the  bridle  paths  of  every  park.  Splendid-looking  fellows 
they  often  are,  and  fill  the  eye  and  win  the  admiration  of  the 
fairest  of  women,  but  there  is  something  in  their  trade  utterly  ab- 
horrent to  my  Republican  heart.  More  soldiers,  twice  over,  are  at 
all  times  quartered  at  Buda-Pesth  than  our  whole  country  possesses. 

There  is  a  Providence  watching  over  men  and  nations,  our  good 
people  say.  If  this  be  true,  I  again  exclaim:  "How  long,  oli 
Lord!    How  long!" 

The  railroad  leads  through  the  hills  at  Varna  up  a  very  pretty 
valley.     We  started  at  7:30,  and  were  soon  in  interesting  seer 


*■  i,V 


Hi^ 


vf  if 


■X 


^'■>- 


1 1 


Wi 


'„l,'l 


^St*^'^K 


:nery 


'fr'' 


li 


3SP 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


>   I 


i      ' 


— nothirif^  grand,  but  a  succession  of  broad  valleys  well  covered 
with  fields,  and  overlooked  by  tall,  rug<jed  hills,  Coo  to  800  feet 
high,  clothed  now  in  small  bushes,  and  then  lifting  in  rocky  jireci- 
piccs,  often  rendered  verj'  striking  by  their  enibattled-looking 
walls,  being  deepl>-  pierced  by  caves  in  great  numbers,  looking  as 
if  cut  by  hand.  Hertls  of  gray  cattle  and  large  numbers  of  horses 
were  constantly  seen,  and  several  pretty  villages,  now  all  decked 
in  bunting  and  garlands.  We  climcd  to  an  upper  plateau  of 
deeply  rolling  countrj";  perhaps  I  am  wrong  in  terming  it  a 
plateau,  so  high,  so  rolling,  and  so  deep  are  the  dei)reHsions. 
This  up  country  is  of  very  rich  land,  and  highly  productive.  The 
wheat,  rye,  and  oats  on  it  were  all  well  set  and  finely  green,  and 
the  vinej-ards  healthy  looking.  Trees  are  not  wanting,  and  the 
stretches  of  rolling  country  often  seen  for  10  to  15  miles  were 
exceedingly  pretty.  It  looked  farm-like,  although  no  farm-houses 
were  ever  seen,  and  sometimes  for  miles  'lot  a  village  or  hamlet 
was  visible.  The  villages  lie  along  the  high  road,  which,  at  times, 
was  quite  far  from  the  railroad.  The  farms  must  often  be  two, 
three,  or  more  miles  back  from  the  houses  of  those  who  cultivate 
them. 

We  were  running  for  three  or  four  hours  through  this  rich  land, 
and  seven  hours  and  a  half  from  Varna  to  Rustchuk,  where  we 
struck  the  Danube,  here  a  broad  and  mighty  stream  of  white, 
muddy  water.  This  is  Europe's  grandest  river,  for  the  Volga  is 
so  far  in  eastern  Russia  that  it  can  hardl)'  be  called  Kurojjean. 
We  crossed  on  a  small  steamer  to  Giurgievo,  in  Roumania,  and 
were  .soon  on  the  great  Oriental  express  on  its  way  directly  for 
Paris.  We  ran  rapidly  through  a  fine  farming  coimtry,  low,  roll- 
ing, green  in  wheat,  oats,  and  rye,  and  with  large  acreage,  now 
being  broken  or  just  ])lanted  in  Indian  corn.  The  land  was  not  so 
rich  nor  so  pretty  as  the  part  of  Ikdgaria  we  had  traversed.  Here 
commences  that  vast  wheat  country,  which  stretches  westward 
and  northward,  and  northeast,  running  into  Hungary  and  far  into 
Russia,  the  so-called   granary  of  Europe. 

In  two  hours  we  were  in  Bucharest,  tlie  capital  of  the  kingdom 
of  Roumania.  It  is  an  irregularly  hud-out  city  of  over  300,000 
inhabitants,  has  some  fine  hotels,  120  churches,  nearly  all  Greek, 
and  some  good  drives.  The  streets  are  all  jiaved,  partlv  in  granite 
block  and  partly  in  large  cobble  or  small  flat  stones.  The  mistake 
is  being  made  of  laying  the  blocks  on  a  natural  bed.  The  church 
attached  to  the  liospital  and  charities  of  Princess  Balassa  is  nretty 
without  and  elaborately  rich  within  ;  has  a  fine  monument  of  i.  e 
princess,  and  is  all  gilded  inside.  The  screen  which  sepruates  the 
altar  end  of  the  building  from  the  main  church  and  the  whole  ri:ar 
down,  is  one  mass  of  gold,  and  shows  that  the  peojile  have  much 
of  the  Oriental  in  their  taste.  The  Metropolitan  Church,  adjoin- 
ing the  Bishop's  palace,  and  the  House  of  Parliament  l\'ing  on  a 
hill  along  the  edge  of  the  city,  are  interesting.     In  the  church,  in- 


t 


)vered 

)0  feet 

preci- 

lokinij 

iii^  as 

lorses 

cckcd 

L-au  of 

s  it  a 

ssions. 

The 

n,  and 

ul  llie 

were 

Houses 

lam  let 

times, 

)e  two, 

Itivatc 


BUCHAREST. 


35  > 


cased  in  a  silver  coverinfj  fittiii|j  the  form,  arc  the  remains  of  St. 
Demetrius,  who  lived  some  1,200  years  ago.  The  remains  were 
miraculously  preserved,  and  have  the  extraordinary  quality  of 
effectini^  tiie  cure  of  s'ck  people,  wIk.'^'"  garments  are  laid  in  the 
case  containing  the  body  and  tliere  Ictt  for  a  couple  of  weeks. 
There  were  several  bundles  when  the  case  was  opened  to  our 
view.  I  believe  during  the  two  weeks  the  garments  arc  thus  left 
the  sick  one  gets  well,  or — dies.  The  time  is  certainly  ample  for 
a  thorough  change.  The  good  priest  who  showed  the  relic  had 
entire  confidence  in  the  hygienic  cjualities  of  his  corpse! 

On  the  threshold  and  lower  door-frame  of  the  main  entrance  to 
the  Mouse  of  Kstates  (Parliament)  was  scattered  the  blood  of  some 
men  killed  here  two  weeks  before.  The  papers  claimed  only  two 
or  three  were  killed  in  all,  but  a  quite  intelligent  man,  who  acted 
as  our  guide,  assured  me  it  was  generally  believed  the  killed  ran 
into  200  or  more.  This  was  what  may  be  termed  a  party  fight, 
and  was  a  sort  of  revolution.  The  party  of  the  outs  demanded 
the  right  to  be  heard  by  the  ministry.  This  was  refused.  It  tried 
to  force  itself  into  the  Hall  of  the  Estates,  shots  were  fired,  men 
were  killed.  But  the  PMiistry  was  forced  to  resign,  and  the  outs 
got  in.  I  do  n.)t  know  what  the  tlistinction  is  between  the  two 
parties;  perhaps,  as  in  other  countries  we  know  of,  the  ins  were 
in.  and  wanted  to  stay  in  ;  the  outs  were  cold,  and  wanted  to 
get  in  out  of  the  cold.  Tliey  charg(~d  that  the  ins  were  stealing. 
I'he  outs  never  steal ;  they  can't ;  but  wait  till  they  get  their 
hands  in,  and  then   see. 

We  spent  two  days  in  Hucharest,  and  were  pleased  to  see  that 
it  is  rapidly  developing  into  the  capital  of  a  fine  people,  and 
already  begins  to  wear  the  dress  of  a  thoroughly  western  European 
city.  That  Roumania  is  a  constitutional  government  is  constantly 
evidenced  by  the  animated  discussions  had  on  political  matters  in 
the  railway  carriages.  In  Europe  I  never  take  a  first-class  car- 
riage, if  I  can  help  it.  In  the  second-class  I  meet  the  people, 
land-owners,  nicrcliants,  anil  well-to-do  mechanics.  They  are 
always  wil'iiig  to  talk  to  an  American,  whereas,  in  a  first-class 
coni]i;irtment,  one  never  meets  them.  Bui:  for  the  language,  I 
could  almost  have  thought  m\'self  in  America  when  running  12 
hours  from  lUicharest  to  Tur-Hi  Severin,  at  the  western  boundary 
of  the  kingdom,  for  political  talk  was  constant.  In  this  run,  to- 
gether w'th  the  oiic  two  ilays  before,  we  passed  through  the  cen- 
tre of  nearly  half  of  Roumania,  a  country  with  an  area  of  over 
48,000  square  miles.  A  g'^eat  part  of  it  is  very  fertile,  and  on  its 
hills  there  is  an  abundance  of  timber.   Its  map  shews  it  to  be  dog- 


leggeil   in  shape,  about   ha.lf  of  it  ly 


Ul" 


between  the  Carpathian 


Mountains  antl  Russia,  the  other  half  being  between  the  Danube 
ami  the  same  mountains,  which  have  bended  due  west.  The 
northern  limb  of  the  leg,  I  was  told,  resembles  Bulgaria — hilh",  or 
very  high  rolling,  and  a  part  quite  mountainous.    Fully  a  thirtl  wf 


? .  li  s  \  ' 


if ;  lim 


'ili-     !/ 


i'  f 


If-.! 


352 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


the  whole,  bcinj^  the  part  lying  towards  the  Danube,  is  either 
an  ahnost  dead  flat,  or  a  low,  rolling  country,  running  into  hills  as 
the  Carpathians  are  approached.  These  mountains  appeared,  in 
the  distance,  before  we  had  left  the  capital  an  hour,  in  a  long 
range  with  a  sheet  of  snow  spread  over  the  crest.  This  is  of  the 
winter's  fall,  and  disappears  before  July. 

F"or  hours  we  were  upon  a  vast  plain,  perfectly  flat,  except 
where  some  creek  or  river  ran  through  it  in  a  depression,  The 
soil  was  good.  Trees  were  growing  about  the  plains,  in  lines  here 
and  there,  in  good-sized  copses  frequently,  nearly  all  trimmed  high 
up,  the  twigs  being  used  for  fuel.  The  niilroad  station;;  were 
good  and  fairly  ornamental,  and  railroad  construction-workers,  in 
their  garments  of  white  cotton — a  sort  of  wide  shirt  gathered  in 
at  the  waist  and  confined  by  a  broad  girdle  protecting  the  vit.'  1 
parts  of  the  body — looked  cheerful  and  contented.  WomcM  arr 
largely  field  hands,  and  were  frequently  the  drivers  of  the  si-  i:. 
plows.  The  land  is  well  broken  by  good  plows  with  a  couple  c>f 
wheels  in  front.  The  oxen  are  not  strong  looking,  nor  aie  the 
horses.  A  first-class  team  of  two  with  us  could  do  the  work  here 
done  by  three.  A  proprietor  who  Kindly  gave  me  much  informa- 
tion in  German,  interlarded  with  French,  said  the  beasts  were 
weak  because  not  well  cared  for,  and  with  a  sigh  said  he 
wished  they  had  some  American  energy  with  them.  He  laid  the 
blame  upon  the  peasants.  There  is  a  constant  agrarian  fight 
going  on  between  the  two  classes.  When  the  present  constitu- 
tional government  began  its  course,  the  .land  was  divided  to  a 
considerable  extent  among  the  people.  At  first  it  worked  well, 
but  when  a  house  or  farm  had  to  be  divided  among  a  man's  kin, 
the  holdings  became  too  small  for  their  support  ;  they  then  to  a 
great  extent  surrendered  themselves  to  the  proprietary  landlords 
and  became  his  laborers,  and  when,  too,  they  held  to  their  farms, 
they  became  laborers  for  certain  fixed  periods.  In  this  way  the 
landlord  or  proprietor  gets  the  first  work  and  reaps  the  cream  of 
the  season.  This  led  to  the  late  outbreak  of  two  or  three  weeks 
before — 1  dc  not  refer  to  the  one  in  the  cipital,  which  was  purely 
political.  Several  men  intimated  to  me  that  Russian  intrigue  was 
at  the  bottom  of  the  thing,  and  one  or  two  boldly  asserted  it. 
The  paws  of  the  northern  bear  are  a  constant  source  of  dread,  if 
not  a  menace,  to  all  southeast  Europe,  as  \\\\\  as  to  central  and 
eastern  Asia.  Americans  generally  seem  to  have  sympathy  with 
Russia.  I  can  only  account  for  it  by  the  inherited  dislike  many 
have  for  the  land  of  the  Georges,  and  by  the  hatred  of  the  Irish 
for  every  thing  English.  What  a  blessing  it  would  be  to  the 
United  States  if  Ireland  could  be  thoroughly  pacified.  It  now 
causes  an  outside  strain  to  be  constantly  brought  to  bear  .  ectly 
upon  our  English  relations  and  directi)'  upon  our  interco  -  with 
other  lands.  We  cannot  help  giving  our  sympat!ue.>  lO  the 
oppressed  sons  and  daughters  of  Erin,  and  to  join  with  their  kin- 
dred in  America  in  an  expression  of  that  .sympathy, 


iM 


ROUMANIA  AND  ITS  PRODUCTS. 


353 


Russia  is  a  mighty  colossus  stalking  across  the  world.  Wher- 
ever she  goes  despotism  and  its  attendant  instrument,  espionage, 
follows.  There  ought  not  to  be  a  single  feeling  of  afifinity 
between  the  denizen  of  a  free  soil  and  this  land  of  unlimited 
monarchy.  On  the  other  hand,  though  England  be  grasping  and 
oppressive,  yet  where  she  goes  a  love  of  freedom  goes,  a  real 
comprehension  of  civil  liberty  goes.  However  much  we  may 
dislike  many  of  her  manners,  her  bullying  and  domineering  spirit ; 
however  much  we  may  be  disgusted  by  the  supercilious  demeanor 
of  so  many  of  her  people,  jet  we  are  forced  to  acknowledge  that 
Great  Britain  is  to-day  the  very  bulwark  of  the  world's  freedom. 
In  a  charming  interview  I  had  the  other  day  with  Prof,  Vdmbery, 
the  celebraLed  Hungarian  thinker  and  author,  I  gave  expression 
to  this  idea,  when  he  bounced  from  liis  chair,  and  running  to  his 
desk  took  a  manuscript  in  which  he  was  tlien  writing,  showed  me 
a  page,  and  said  :  "  Read  that,  sir  ;  your  very  language,  almost  in 
.'xact  words,  sir.  It  makes  me  happj-  to  find  that  our  ideas  are 
thus  echoes  one  of  the  other."  Vamb(^'ry  is  a  patriot,  a  lover  of 
freedom  and  a  hater  of  eveiy  form  and  fashion  of  tyranny  ;  he 
thinks  tiiat  England  must  overbalance  Russia  or  the  dial  on  the 
face  of  the  clock  of  progress  will  be  set  back  indefinitely.  \\  hy 
is  it  ?  Simpl)'  England  is  forced  to  a  line  of  freedom  by  the  very 
life-blood  of  her  institutions.  She  is  built  upon  a  rock  in  which 
libert}',  civil  rights,  and  independence  are  the  composing  ingredi- 
ents. She  oppresses  Ireland  because  of  the  cupidit}-  of  her  land- 
holders, and  in  trying  to  do  that  which  is  repugnant  to  the  very 
genius  of  her  institutions,  the  fight  is  inevitable  and  must  go  on 
until  freedom  holds  up  its  head  on  Irish  as  well  as  on  English 
soil. 

Roumania's  plains  produce  a  vast  deal  of  small  grain — wheat, 
rye,  oats,  and  good  barley.  All  of  these  cover  the  ground  well. 
Much  land  is  now  being,  or  has  just  been  broken,  for  Indian  corn, 
some  of  whicli  was  just  up.  I  visited  the  market-place  in  Bucha- 
rest and  found  few  cereals,  fruits  or  vegetables  which  seemed  up 
to  our  notion  ;  apples  were  poor  in  size,  but  well  flavored  ;  vege- 
tables small,  and  the  Indian  corn,  with  little,  rounded  grains.  It 
is  planted  very  dose,  and  grows  with  short  stalks  and  small  ears. 
The  peasants  lack  good  seed,  I  should  think.  It  amazes  me  to 
see  how  greatly  corn  production  has  increased  in  the  old  world 
since  I  was  first  abroad,  from  '51  to  '53.  Then  maize  was  an 
occasional  crop,  now  it  is  almost  universal.  Tobacco,  I  think,  is 
in  more  universal  use  than  any  one  other  plant.  Next  comes 
wheat,  but  corn  is  fast  treading  upon  the  latter.  Wherever  we 
go  and  in  every  land  I  can  hear  from  where  it  will  grow  it  is 
becoming  one  of  the  heavy  crops.  There  is  a  large  cattle  herd- 
ing and  horse  growing  business  in  Roumania.  The  horses,  how- 
ever, are  rather  under  sized,  and  the  cattle  not  heavy,  and  beef 
very   thin.     Great    flocks   of    sheep   and   of    goats — the   former 


';k 


1 


I    •>  i! 


■mm 


% 


lit  '.iy    ,^ 


1  i  i!'''ll1  /■ 


4  ,    '  /  'Hi'' 


:!     1.1      j, 

I       !     !  I  •  f 


I  I 


■;f   ," 


•i 


1/ 


If 


■ML*; 


m 


354 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


generally  brown — are  seen.  Cheese  is  made  from  the  milk  of 
both  animals  ;  that  from  the  sheep  is  sweet  and  rich,  and  can 
be  spread  upon  bread  like  hrm  butter.  Bulgarians  are  often 
seen  as  shepherds.  They  are  rather  a  nomadic  race,  and 
are  the  sheep  tenders  of  all  European  countries  once  under 
Turkish  rule.  Their  letters  and  signs  resemble  the  Russian 
a  little,  and,  I  am  told,  their  language  too.  In  Roumania  the 
language  is  a  mi.xture,  a  sort  of  Latin  mixed  with  Italian,  with 
an  infusion  of  the  Oriental.  I  could  always  understand  the  sub- 
ject uikr  discussion  when  hearing  them  talk,  owing  to  the 
familial  <  though  I  could  catch  nothing  else.     The  language 

is  softer  «.  French,  but  lacks  the  soft,  ilat  sound  of  Italian, 

caused  by  .^  !i  large  usage  of  vowels.  The  people  are  fairly 
good  looking,  but  we  saw  few  pretty,  and  no  beautiful,  women. 
The  peasants  wear  shoes  of  sole  or  other  heavy  leather,  bent  up 
around  the  foot  and  fastened  by  thongs  over  the  instep,  and 
strapped  about  the  ankle,  with  over  the  shoulders  a  sort  of  sack 
made  of  woollen  stuff  almost  as  heavy  as  carpeting.  This  shoe 
is  common  to  Roumania,  Bulgaria,  and  Servia,  and  a  part  of 
Hungary. 

I  was  told  that  good  water  is  everywhere  to  be  had,  cither  in 
natural  springs  or  moderately  deep  weils.  The  well-bucket  is 
hoisted  on  a  horizontal  spindle,  with  a  cart-wheel  in  place  of  a 
crank — apparently  a  worn  and  discarded  wheel. 

There  were  many  pretty  stretches  of  country,  and,  toward  the 
west,  good  scenery  and  very  large  vineyards,  and  orchards  of 
prunes  and  waliiuis.  Wc  tried  several  varieties  of  wine.  They  all 
seemed  pure,  very  cheap,  and  good.  A  connoisseur  would  prob- 
ably not  like  them.  I  make  it  a  rule  to  drink  the  wine  of  the 
country,  and  like  nearly  all  when  pure.  I  can  never  be  a  prohi- 
bitionist so  long  as  wine  be  inhibited.  We  drank  a  delightful  red 
wine  at  Turnu  Severin,  and  a  good  wliite  one,  both  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. Before  reaching  that  place,  a  few  miles  eastward,  we 
began  a  very  rapid  descent  to  the  Danube  through  a  scene  not 
often  surpassed,  over  wooded  hills  and  acrors  deep  valleys;  the 
great  river  lay  like  a  mighty  silvery  band  winding  along  the  valley 
below,  and  coming  out  of  the  Carpathian  range,  where  it  cuts 
through  the  mountains  in  passes  wild  and  grand.  The  grade  is 
very  severe — perhaps  one  in  25 — and  continues  until  the  river 
level  is  reached.  The  gorges  down  which  we  ran  are  heavily 
wooded;  the  sun  was  setting  in  a  field  of  red;  the  river  was  in 
great  ribbons  of  silver  ;  and  nightingales  were  gushingly  carolling, 
unable  to  restrain  their  love-making,  until  it  grew  dark.  We  got 
our  luggage  on  board  the  steamer  on  which  we  were  to  go  as  far 
as  Belgrade,  went  ashore  for  a  supper  and  for  a  bottle  of  the  best 
native  wine  to  be  found.  Then,  being  full  of  good  things  and 
happy,  we  sat  on  the  deck,  watched  the  stars,  listened  to  the 
music  of  the  night-loving  bird,  and  thought  of  loved  ones  at  home. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


SCENERV  0\  LOWER  DAXIJHE— BUDA-l'ESTH— nEAUTIEUI, 
—MARGUERITE   ISLAND— HUNGARIAN   DERBY. 


WOMEN 


Vienna,  May  24,  1888. 

The  lower  Danube,  from  Vienna  down,  is  not,  taken  as  a 
whole,  an  interesting  river  to  travel  upon.  It  runs  frequently 
through  great  plains  or  low  hills.  There  are  a  few  points,  how- 
ever, where  it  is  fine,  and  between  Turnu  Severin  up  to  Bazias  it 
is  surpassed  by  few  rivers  anywhere.  Between  these  points  it 
breaks  through  the  Carpathian  Mountains  and  the  foot-hills  flank- 
ing them.  At  the  highest  point  the  mountains  rise  above  the 
water  800  or  l.ooo  feet,  are  very  steep,  and  in  many  places  lift 
by  sheer  precipices  several  hundred  feet.  This  is  a  part  of  the 
renowned  "  Iron  Gate  "  and  Kazan  Pass.  Nearly  the  whole  dis- 
tance run  during  some  six  to  seven  hours  was  through  these.  In 
some  places  the  river  is  contracted  to  a  width  of  300  to  500  feet, 
and  tlien  widens  into  gulfs  of  nearly  a  mile  in  width,  witli^eddies 
whirling  in  them.  In  the  Kazan  Pass  the  fall  in  the  stream  is  16 
feet  in  a  mile,  and  during  low  river,  steamers  drawing  very 
little  water  find  the  passage  dangerous,  and  passengers  are  landed 
and  carried  over  the  high-road  which  has  been  cut  along  the 
precipice.  This  is  the  great  Hungarian  road  running  from  Pres- 
burg  to  Orsova,  the  frontier  town,  where  it  is  met  by  a  fine 
national  road  traversing  Roumaniato  the  Black  Sea.  In  the  rock 
on  the  south  side  of  the  river  through  these  gorges  or  river  passes 
are  yet  seen  the  remains  of  the  Roman  road  built  by  the  Emperor 
Trajan.  It  lies  near  the  water's  edge,  and  was  carried  around 
some  of  the  sharp  bends  on  scaffolding  hanging  over  the  rushing 
river.  Deep  holes,  about  a  foot  square,  show  how  joists  were  let 
in  for  the  hanging  road  to  rest  upon.  In  a  tablet  cut  into  the 
face  of  one  of  the  precipices  is  an  inscription  yet  partially  legible, 
in  honor  of  "Trajanus  Pontifex  Maximus,"  and  to  commemorate 
his  building  the  road.  It  was  only  a  few  feet  wide,  and  intended 
for  men  and  horses,  and  possibly  as  a  sort  of  tow-path.  It  has 
been  many  years  since  I  paii^^d  along  the  Danube  from  R<.,-;en'  • 
burg  to  Vienna,  and  14  since  I  again  ascended  it  as  far  as  Lintz, 
and  I  may  have  forgotten  some  of  its  grandest  scenery.  But  I 
think  there  is  none  on  it  to  compare  in  grandeur  to  this  part  of 
the  lower  Danube. 

355 


% 


A  i  ^*  1 


>•  i] 


>.!«'« 


if  t 


V 


'  I 


556 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


*\   I 


i    ! 


'A\ 


We  were  considerably  annoyed  by  a  small  fly — a  brown-headed 
large  gnat,  said  to  be  very  injurious  to  cattle  and  horses,  for  50 
or  more  miles  around,  and  which,  the  people  believe,  are  all 
hatched  in  a  deep  cavern  partially  filled  with  water,  hollowed  far 
up  into  one  of  the  precipices  at  the  upper  end  of  the  pass.  They 
are  peculiar  to  this  locality,  and  take  their  name  from  the  old 
castle  of  "  Gokibaez,"  which  is  perched  on  a  crag  below  the 
cavern.  This  castle,  and  one  on  the  opposite  cliff,  were  destroyed 
in  the  Turkish  wars.  The  souls  of  some  of  the  old  blood-letting 
warriors  may  have  gotten  into  these  little  brutes,  and  they  arc 
avenging  themselves  upon  men  and  their  four-footed  servants. 
That,  at  least,  would  be  the  Buddhistic  tradition  if  such  were  in 
vogue  here.  Two  or  three  hours  before  reaching  Belgrade  the 
rapids  of  the  river  entirely  ceased,  and  the  country  becomes  more 
or  less  a  plain,  much  of  which  is  now  under  water,  owing  to  the 
grci't  flood  whicii,  a  few  weeks  ago,  exceeded  any  before  known 
in  the  memory  of  man.  Many  thousand  acres  of  farm  lands  are 
flooded.  We  were  often  upon  what  appeared  to  be  a  wide 
placid  lake,  8  to  12  miles  across.  These  wide  stretches  of 
water  contain  many  pieces  of  wood,  n  jw  islands,  whicli  were  vor\- 
pretty,  and  were  filled  with  singing  birds  whose  carols  we  con- 
stantly heard. 

We  had  during  the  day  Hungary  on  our  right  and  Servia  on 
the  left,  the  Hungarian  side  general!}'  a  plain,  stretching  far  back 
from  tlie  I'/er;  on  the  Servian  side  a  few  small  plains,  but 
generally  broken,  and  in  the  distance  mountainous.  The  same 
character  of  crops  we  had  seen  in  Roumania  ruled — wheat,  oats, 
rye,  and  corn  just  up  or  being  planted,  and  potatoes.  There  is 
evidently  quite  a  fruit  crop,  plums  or  prunes  being  most  abundant, 
and  walnut  trees  were  scattered  everywhere.  We  could  see,  when 
the  water  had  not  driven  them  entirely  back,  many  cattle  and 
sheep. 

Belgrade  disappointed  us.  Having  so  often  heard  of  it  as  the 
outer  fortress  of  the  Turks,  and  that  battles  had  been  frequently 
fought  for  its  possession,  I  expected  to  find  a  commanding  strong- 
hold. It  was  quite  tame.  Its  population  is  about  25,000,  and  the 
Turkish  people  having  entirely  disappeared,  their  mosques  and 
Oriental  buildings  are  going  into  ruin.  Here  we  took  the  train 
for  Buda-Pesth.  Cars  good,  and  the  road  in  fair  condition  ;  time, 
seven  hours,  over  an  almost  flat  plain  of  more  than  average  land ; 
not  what  our  prairie  people  would  call  rich,  but  yet  capable  of 
producing  large  quantities  of  cereals.  The  country  presents 
much  the  appearance  of  some  of  our  flat  prairie  lands,  only  trees 
are  more  abundant.  There  are  evidently  many  large  individual 
proprietors.  These  are  all  ranked  as  nobles  and  have  estates  of 
1,000  to  4,000  acres,  and  some  of  them  several  such.  Their  farm- 
houses are  extensive,  long,  one  story  brick  or  stone  buildings, 
some  of  them  several  hundred  feet  long  and  enclosing  an  inner 


l«    i 


OUTLOOK  AND  PRODUCTS  OF  HUNGARY.        357 


quadrangle.  About  these  are  huge  ricks  of  straw.  Near  some  of 
the  estates  are  villages  of  peasant  houses  in  rows,  with  spaces  of 
a  hundred  to  two  hundred  feet  between  them.  The  peasant 
farmers  have  small  holdings.  Horses  as  well  as  oxen  are  used  on 
the  farm,  and  a  pair  of  either  is  of  size  and  strength  sufificicnt  to 
break  the  ground.  Indeed,  the  horses  are  large,  not  of  the  French 
or  Flanders  kind,  but  tall,  well-formed,  and  well-muscled  roadsters. 
The  cattle  are  of  a  uniform  color,  a  sort  of  dark,  tawny  gray,  with 
long,  upturned  horns.  We  saw  very  large  herds  of  both  horned 
cattle  and  horses,  and  flocks  containing  many  hundred  sheep. 
Much  land  in  Hungary  is  in  grape  culture.  The  vines  have  been 
greatly  damaged  by  the  almost  unprecedented  severity  of  the 
past  winter,  and  its  very  deep  and  long-lasting  snow.  The  Hun- 
garian wines  a  :  good,  rather  heavy,  much  more  so  than  those  of 
either  the  Rhme  or  Bordeaux.  One  notices  this,  not  while  drink- 
ing them,  but  a  half  hour  afterward.  It  is  very  cheap,  yet  a  large 
amount  of  beer  is  drunk.  It  is  wonderful  how  the  taste  for  this 
is  growing  throughout  the  world.  In  every  land  we  have  visited 
beer  is  the  favorite  drink  of  all  people  of  European  antecedents. 
Breweries  are  being  built  in  Jai)an  and  in  India,  and  the  importa- 
tion from  Europe  and  Australia  is  very  large.  Gambrinus,  not 
Bacchus,  bids  fair  to  rule  the  thirsty  world.  Prohibitionists 
should  understand  this.  If  they  will  only  bend  their  energies 
towards  keeping  impurities  and  bad  alcohol  out  of  beer,  and 
cultivate  a  taste  for  light  wines,  their  efforts  will  be  of  lasting 
benefit  to  mankind.  While  they  continue  to  class  beer  and  wine 
with  whiskey  and  alcoholic  poisons,  they  make  an  opposition 
which  is  apt,  from  a  spirit  of  supposed  independence,  to  run  to 
the  very  extreme  of  favoring  every  thing  they  oppose.  The 
beer  and  wine  man  steps  into  the  ranks  of  the  whiskey  men 
simply  because  the  temperance  man  is  determined  to  force  him 
into  line. 

The  Christian,  as  such,  fights  every  form  of  wrong-doing,  for 
his  lessons  are  that  sin  is  sin  and  cannot  be  weighed  ;  none  so 
small  that  it  can  pass  unobserved  ;  none  so  great  that  it  cannot 
be  forgiven.  Not  so,  however,  with  the  philosopher,  the  states- 
man, or  the  human  reformer  ;  their  duty  is  to  overlook  or  to  be 
blind  to  the  small  frailties  of  humanity,  frailties  inherent  in  man's 
nature,  or  to  use  these  very  frailties  as  a  means  of  steering  men 
away  from  crimes  and  of  winning  them  to  higher  virtues.  Tem- 
perance in  the  sense  of  total  abstinence,  cannot,  consistently  with 
the  life  of  Christ,  be  preached  as  an  abstract  and  obligatory 
Christian  duty.  It  certainly  cannot  be  enunciated  by  the  philos- 
opher or  statesman  as  an  abstract  ethical  or  civil  duty.  To  them 
it  is  not  the  use,  but  the  abuse,  of  alcohol  that  makes  the  crime. 
To  the  majority  of  the  world — the  overwhelming  majority — it  is 
only  in  the  abuse  that  sin  begins.  The  teacher  loses  the  force  of 
his  argument  against  real  abstract  sin  when  he  preaches  that  to 


m 


I'h 


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If 


35S 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


I     !, 


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".'  i\ 


I  :  ', 


','1 


■'I 


'S  i  :  \M 


()■ 


be  a  sin  which  iiis  hearer  absolutely  denies  being  such.  Ergo, 
they  make  a  mistake,  a  mistake  which  many  good  and  wise  men 
believe  to  be  a  crime  against  true  religion,  when  tliey  spend  their 
time  and  energies  in  trying  to  exclude  beer  and  wine  from  the 
stomach.-i  of  the  world.  Hut  as  long  as  the  profession  of  prohibi- 
tion is  a  trade  no  advice  can  help  the  thing. 

From  ]?uda-Pesth  to  Prcsburg  the  country  is  not  so  flat  as  be- 
)-ond  ;  it  is  often  rolling,  and  is  quite  pretty  now  when  it  wears 
its  bright  spring  garments,  and  it  shows  a  fair  state  of  culti- 
vation. The  proprietary  estates  are  numerous.  The  straw  ricks, 
large  and  abuntlant,  and  the  quadrangular  farm  houses  e.xtensive. 
Taken  as  a  whole,  the  trip  from  Varna  to  Vienna  is  an  interesting 
one  and  one  which  Americans  should  make  far  more  than  they 
do  for  the  scenery  ;  and  when  they  do  travel  over  the  line  they 
should  not  do  as  the  majority  of  tourists  do — rush  through 
night  and  day  on  the  great  Oriental  express.  Too  many  Ameri- 
cans think  a  tour  in  Europe  is  satisfactorily  made  bj'  visiting  its 
cities  and  great  mountains,  and  run  from  place  to  place  in  through 
trains,  too  often  doing  so  by  night.  The  country  through  which 
we  passed,  as  seen  by  day  from  the  more  motlerately  moving  cars 
we  occupied,  is  a  printed  page  from  which  much  can  be  learned 


;f 


carefully  studied. 


The  whole  land  from  the  Black  Sea  to  this  place  has  been  not 
only  full  of  matters  suggesting  thought,  but  most  charming  to 
the  eye.  Instead  of  being  wearied  by  a  twenty-  to  twenty-five 
niile-an-hour  pace,  I  could  wish  the  speed  diminished  by  at  least 
ten  miles.  In  Buda-Pesth  I  met  Prof.  Vambt'ry,  the  Hungarian 
thinker  and  writer.  After  an  hour  spent  with  him  he  took  me  to 
the  National  Club,  a  magnificent  establishment,  to  which  all  the 
first  men  belong — even  though  residents  of  distant  parts  of  the 
kingdom — and  of  which  he  is  honorary  librarian.  He  spends  two 
hours  each  day  in  it  reading.  He  is  a  man  of  great  vitality  and 
of  most  charming,  naive  enthusiasm  and  simplicity.  He  invited 
me  to  tea,  informally,  saying  that  others  visited  him  because  he 
was  a  sort  of  lion,  but  that  I  talked  with  him  as  a  man  and 
freshened  up  his  ideas.  He  understands  tvelve  languages  and 
can  write,  I  think,  in  ten,  and  is  the  highest  authority  on 
Orientalism.  One  of  the  Professor's  chiefest  charms  is  that  he 
does  not  know  too  much.  Poor  human  nature  rebels  in  the 
presence  of  a  man  who  knows  it  all.  Vamb^ry  is  modest  with 
all  of  his  knowledge.  We  had  a  common  personal  bond.  We 
were  friends  of  Bayard  Taylor.  He  thinks  that  Asia  will  be  re- 
generated by  a  light  coming  from  the  west,  and  that  this  light 
will  be  bright  while  the  sun  of  England  shines  throughout  the 
Orient.  I  suggested  that  as  the  sun  moved  on  westward,  per- 
haps, it  was  through  the  long  closed  doors  of  Japan  that  the 
vivifying  rays  were  to  get  into  Asia.  With  that  lie  bounded  up 
like  a  boy  and  said:    "  If  it  does,  Asia  will  be  indebted  to  that 


r ' '! 


go. 
len 
eir 
the 
ibi- 


BLDA-PESTU—A  BEAUTIFUL  CITY. 


359 


glorious  land  of  tlie  free  which  had  the  pluck  to  send  that  grand 
man,  Perry,  to  draw  back  the  bolts  which  had  locked  up  Japan. 
That  America  and  England  should  marcii  hand  in  hand  in  the 
mighty  cause."  Ah,  why  docs  not  England  let  her  light  shine  on 
the  Irishman  as  she  does  on  the  far  away  lands!  England  cannot 
help  playing  tlie  bully,  even  when  she  does  good  to  the  bullied. 
Tile  Indian  bends  his  neck,  receives  the  good,  and  licks  the  hand, 
if  it  strikes,  all  the  while  in  his  heart  hating  the  man  who  wields 
the  hand.  The  Englishman  cannot  or  will  not  understand  the 
Irish  character.  Mis  faults  alone  are  seen,  while  his  high-mettled 
spirit  is  ignored  or  misnamed. 

I  said  the  trip  from  Varna  here  was  a  most  charming  one,  but 
the  portion  of  it  which  would  be  most  pleasing  to  many  people 
was  spent  at  Huda-Pesth.  This  is  a  really  very  beautiful  and  most 
charming  city,  prettily  situated,  finely  built,  witii  good  theatres, 
handsome  public  buildings,  imposing  churches,  artistic  monu- 
ments, elegant  hotels,  handsome  promenades  and  drives,  bright 
and  airy  cafes,  galleries  and  museums,  cheerful  looking  and  gay 
people,  and  the  prettiest  women  in  the  world,  nearly  every  class 
dressing  in  good  taste.  A  noble  river  runs  through  it,  spanned  by 
britlges  of  fine  architectural  proportions,  with  keen,  darting 
steamers  constantly  plying  its  waters,  and  picturesque  views  and 
charming  parks  and  environs.  There  is  here  every  concomitant 
nccessar)'  to  make  it  one  of  the  most  attractive  cities  in  Europe 
for  strangers  to  visit.  It  is  formed  of  the  two  old  towns,  Buda, 
which  until  captured  by  the  Turks,  was  the  residence  of  the  Hun- 
garian kings,  and  Pesth,  across  the  river,  both  Roman  cities,  and 
at  different  times  during  the  decadence  of  the  empire  prominent 
towns.  They  are  now  united  as  one,  and  are  the  capital  of 
the  kingdom,  with  a  palace  for  its  king,  and  good  though  not 
magnificent  buildings  for  public  offices.  It  has  a  population  of 
about  500,000,  a  large  grain  trade,  manufactories  of  very  elegant 
porcelain,  excelling  in  majolica  ware  and  now  claiming  that  its 
glassware  is  equal  to  that  of  Bohemia.  The  streets  are  bending 
and  broken  (which,  however,  to  me,  but  adds  to  their  beauty),  are 
well  paved  in  granite  block  (consequently  noisy),  clean,  and  lined 
with  a  generally  tasteful  style  of  houses,  but  in  the  newer  parts 
very  fine  residence  and  business  structures.  In  several  quarters 
there  arc  bits  of  street  view  equal  to  any  thing  in  Vienna,  and 
the  great  residence  street,  Andrassy  .Strasse,  about  a  mile  and  a 
quarter  long  and  a  hundred  feet  wide,  straight  and  running  from 
the  centre  of  the  town  to  the  park  at  its  outer  end  is  not  sur- 
passed, and.  hardly  equalled,  in  beauty  and  elegance  by  any 
thoroughfare  I  can  recall.  The  inner  half  of  this  noble  street  is 
solidly  built,  but  in  so  artistic  and  varied  architecture  as  not  to 
look  stiff.  The  other  half  has  detached  residences  with  grounds 
and  plats,  not  large  enough  to  give  a  suburban  appearance,  but 
enouch  to  soften  the  picture  and  to  aooeal  to  the  love  of  home 


yet 


picti 


appe 


»;  I 


>  > 


'1  ■'  i.   ''fi' 


\  1 


if^  V 


ti 


,k 

1       1 

I; 

'          '' 

1 

,       •      'l 

i      .      - 
1 

m  1/ 


n  ! 


hV 


'Ji 


360 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


taste.  It  is  paved  in  closely  laid  wooden  block,  either  new  or 
kept  in  perfect  repair. 

I  am  more  than  ever  convinced  that  the  excellence  of  street 
pavements  depends  more  upon  constant  and  methodical  repair 
than  upon  the  character  and  material  of  the  work.  It  should  be 
well  planned,  both  as  to  the  material  used  and  the  manner  of 
doing,  but  a  sleepless  eye  shou.d  be  kept  upon  it,  and  disintegra- 
tion or  yielding  in  any — even  the  smallest — part  should  at  once 
be  prevented.  A  small  indenture,  a  slight  unevenness  is  an  enter- 
ing wedge  for  destruction.  It  should  be  an  axiom  that  a  bad 
pavement  is  no  pavement.  It  may  be  costly  to  live  up  to  this, 
but  cities  are  costly  luxuries  at  best.  They  are  cither  cities  or 
mere  hives.  Modern  civilization  is  unwilling  to  live  in  hives ;  it 
must  therefore  submit  to  the  necessity  of  paying  for  cities,  or  go 
to  the  village  or  country.  The  pavements  of  the  capitals  of 
Hungary  and  Austria  are  noisy  moileis.  People  soon  cease  to 
hear  the  noise,  so  wonderfully  adaptable  are  the  human  senses.  A 
miller  can  listen  to  and  enjoy  sweet  music  undisturbed  by  the 
clatter  of  his  machinery.  The  denizen  of  a  cit)-  "  hears  the 
silence  "  in  the  deep  vaults  of  Mammoth  Cave.  The  square 
Belgian  block  is  here  used  instead  of  the  long  one,  and  the 
cleaning  is  so  constant  that  one  scared)'  ever  sees  the  sweeper. 
In  the  narrow,  central  street  asphalt  is  much  in  vogue.  It  is, 
however,  genuine,  and  not  the  contractors'  darling — coal-tar. 

Pesth  lies  on  a  plain  on  the  east  side  of  the  Danube,  which  some 
20  odd  miles  north  bends  from  its  long  easterly  course  and 
runs  due  south  for  about  150  miles.  The  streaivi  is  confined 
between  finely  built  stone  walls,  or  quays,  upon  which  lighting 
barges  and  small  steamers,  sharp  pointed  at  both  ends,  and  with 
rudders  at  each  extremity,  discharge  their  cargoes.  Along  this 
quay  on  the  east  bank  runs  a  team  and  wagon  road,  under  a 
second  wall ;  upon  the  upper  level  of  this  is  the  plateau  of  the  town, 
and  along  its  edge  is  the  corso,  a  beautiful  asphalted  promenade 
exclusively  for  pedestrians.  Along  this  corso  arc  magnificent 
buildings  of  five  stories,  with  considerable  pretensions  to  archi- 
tectural excellence.  Some  of  them  are  very  fine.  The  corso  has 
the  full  benefit  of  a  fine  water  front,  and  yet,  being  elevated  so 
much  above  the  river,  the  unsightliness  arising  from  the  river 
commerce  is  not  observed.  On  the  corso  are  some  handsome 
monuments,  kiosk  cafes,  and  costly  restaurants.  Towards  sun- 
down and  during  the  long  twilights,  the  promenade  is  filled  with 
handsome  people,  gaily  uniformed  officers,  ladies  in  their  best 
walking  costumes,  business  men  and  nobles.  In  one  large  square 
made  by  a  public  building  standing  back,  is  a  pretty  kiosk  cafe, 
about  which  we  saw  seated  perhaps  1,000  to  2,000  of  the  dlite.  I 
have  never  seen  anywhere  so  many  pretty  out-door  toilettes  and 
so  many  beautiful  women.  Beauty  was  the  rule  instead  of  the 
exception  ;  some  of  it  of  so  rare  and  delicate  a  type  that  my  boys 
looked  on  with  wide-eyed  admiration. 


tlu 


.MARGUERITE  ISLAND. 


36  > 


Oil  the  opposite  bank,  or  Buda  side,  are  also  fine  buildings,  but 
upon  a  narrow  bank,  from  which  lifts  a  hill  varying  from  150  to 
200  feet  in  height,  crowned  by  a  long  line  of  public  buildings, 
including  the  royal  palace,  and  extending  nearly  a  half  mile  on  the 
steep  slope  of  the  hill  are  the  palace  gardens,  terraced,  with 
broad,  zigzag  walks,  climbing  by  easy  grade  to  the  upper  terrace, 
on  which  the  palace  stands.  This  hill  is  a  long,  narrow  ridge, 
dropping  to  the  river  on  one  side  and  to  the  main  town  of  (Ofen) 
old  Ikida  on  the  other.  Across  a  narrow  valley,  at  one  end  of  this 
ridge,  ruiming  back  from  the  river,  under  the  end  of  the  palace, 
rises  a  high  eminence,  perhaps  500  feet  high,  crowned  by  a  pictur- 
cscjue  fortress  of  large  extent,  and  beyond  the  u[)per  end  of  the 
pul)Iic  buildings  and  a  mile  or  so  away,  lifts  a  yet  much  higher 
mountain,  covered  with  villas  and  vineyards.  These  heights  and 
their  fortresses,  palaces  and  distant  villa  residences  make  x 
beautiful  picture  from  the  corso,  aided,  too,  by  a  couple  of  the 
prettiest  bridges  one  can  conceive  of,  the  lower  one  with  a  single 
suspension  span  and  the  upper  one  with  six  long,  elliptical,  airy 
arches  and  above  this  a  wooded  island  divitling  the  river  into  two 
broad  arms.  The  picture  from  the  ])alace  berg  is  of  another  kind, 
fc)r  it  lies  below  the  beholder  .uid  is  the  beautiful  city  of  I'esth, 
with  its  long  row  of  superb  houses  bordering  the  water,  on  which 
pretty  steamers  and  rowboats  are  constantly  plying,  and  behind 
these  the  white-walled  town  and  dark-tiled  roofs,  with  enough 
trees  intermixed  to  relieve  the  appearance  of  coldness  and  glare, 
and  over  beyond  a  sweeping  country,  framed  in  a  long  line  of  low 
hills. 

We  visited  our  polite  consul,  Mr.  Black,  at  his  villa  on  the  sum- 
mit of  Schwabenberg,  the  high  hill  or  low  mountain  I  mentioned 
as  lying  above  Buda.  This  we  reached  by  a  cog-wheeled  railroad, 
running  up  a  handsome  wooded  gorge,  and,  as  we  climbed,  over- 
looking pretty  valleys,  with  vineyards,  villas,  and  wooded  copses. 
From  this  elevation  we  had  a  grander  tableau,  the  two — or,  rather, 
twin — cities  ;  the  river,  with  its  islands  stretching  far  to  the  south  ; 
the  wide  country  and  low  hills,  all  making  a  rare  view.  The 
island  mentioned  as  being  above  one  of  the  bridgi"  ''-  a  long,  nar- 
row, low-lying  piece  of  ground  belonging  to  the  A.^  i.oake  Joseph, 
who  has  spent  vast  sums  in  making  it  one  of  the  most  charming 
retreats  imaginable.  It  is  nearly  a  mile  long,  has  beautiful  old 
and  many  thrifty  young  trees,  handsome  shrubberies,  with  flower- 
beds and  velvety  lawns,  a  fine  hotel,  and  one  of  the  costliest  baths 
of  modern  times.  This  is  a  long,  architectural  building,  with 
lofty  domes  and  frescoed  roofs,  and  50  odd  commodious  baths, 
constructed  of  marble,  porcelain,  and  mosaic.  Some  of  these  are 
good-sized  pools.  In  one  of  the  larger  ones  I  had  a  luxurious 
bath  in  hot  mineral  water,  at  a  temperature  of  nearly  100  degrees 
Fahrenheit.  The  water  comes  in  a  copious  stream  from  an  arte- 
sian well,  flowing  30  feet  above  the  surface,  and  making  a  cascade 
over  rock,  looking  as  if  made  by  time  into  heavy  stalagmites. 


•V  f  ii         I 


^^^ 
J 


^J8  ... 


■Si  »^  1     S  , 


I  iff ' 
1  . 


'     f'T- 


m 


.>62 


A  RACE  UITJI  TJ/K  SCX. 


This  fall  is  30  or  40  feet  wide,  for  so  large  is  the  stream. 


It 


IS 


f'    I 


.1    I 


\u 


\^  i  . 


«■/, 


said  to  1)0  highly  beneficial  in  many  diseases.  At  the  upper  end 
of  the  islaiuK  near  the  sanitarium,  hotel,  and  baths,  is  a  handsomo 
cafe,  where  a  large  gypsy  band  plays;  at  the  other  end  another 
cafe  with  a  military  band.  The  island  is  the  veritable  home  of 
singing-birds  ;  just  at  sundown  it  was  simply  alive  with  nightin- 
gales, and  i.i  its  deeper  sh.ules  at  this  season  they  were  singing 
early  in  the  afternoon.  This  isl.md  is  named  after  Marguerite, 
the  daughter  of  King  IkMa,  antl  a  celebratetl  saint  in  the  calendar. 
It  is  certainly  a  delicious  place,  and,  with  its  pure,  river-cooletl 
atmosphere,  has  a  right  to  wear  the  purest  of  names.  Other 
baths  are  on  the  mainlanil,  and  the  remains  of  sumptuous  ones 
erected  by  the  Romans. 

I  spoke  of  a  gypsy  band.  There  are  about  50,000  of  these 
people  in  Hungary.  The)'  are  said  to  be  natural  musicians,  play- 
ing on  many  instruments,  and  on  all  without  note.  We  have 
heard  several  bands,  one  of  them  with  20  or  30  members;  all  'he 
instruments,  e.xcept  two  or  three,  being  stringed,  chiefly  vi' 
;uul  ahvaxs  with  a  zither,  or  by  a  larger  thing  of  the  kind  1 
upon  by  two  wooden  hammers,  No  notes  whatever  are  use>..,  .>i 
yet  medleys  were  played  where  the  changes  seemed  most  intricate, 
.ill  simply  following  the  leader.  I  heard  that  very  few  ever  know 
a  note.  Whistle  a  tune,  and  immediately  they  will  all  play  it 
fairly.  Their  potpcitris  were  a  singular  mixture  of  the  airs  of  all 
nations.  Left  to  their  own  choice,  the  music  is  wild,  and  some  of 
it  filled  with  a  weirtl  pathos.  They  have  a  tendency  to  too  great 
loudness.  I  was  told  these  bands  are  all  over  the  kingdom,  and 
are  a  sort  of  pets  with  the  nobilitj",  who  have  a  queer  way  of  get- 
ting a  great  deal  out  of  them.  They  will  cut  a  loo-florin  note  in 
half,  give  the  leader  one,  and  promise  the  other  wluii  the  feast  is 
over.  The  halves  are  worthless  apart.  In  this  wa;'  the  wild  fel- 
lows will  play  for  two  or  three  days  at  a  time,  barely  stopping  for 
food.  The  Hung  rians  keep  up  their  feast,  night  and  day,  for  two 
or  more  days. 

On  Sunday  I  attended  the  Hungarian  Derby.  I  am  cosmopoli- 
tan or  nothing,  and  in  Rome  do  as  the  Romans  do.  There  were 
some  20,000  people  on  the  ground,  a  gay  and  bright  set.  Lager 
beer  flowed  freely,  but  not  a  drunken  man  was  seen.  The  betting 
was  frightful,  not  as  to  the  amount  wagered,  but  in  its  universal- 
ity. Everybody  bought  pools,  and  nothing  was  herird  except  talk 
of  "  gulden."  I  was  amused  by  a  party  of  clericds,  two  priests 
and  two  I  took  to  be  profcr.sors,  in  semi-clerical  yarb.  They 
studied  the  programme  with  keen  interest,  and  at  the  end  of  each 
race  one  of  them  went  off  to  the  pool-stand  and  bought  his 
tickets.  I  think  they  were  winners,  for  just  as  the  steeple-chase 
began  they  were  full  of  smiles  and  satisfaction.  No  one  seemed 
to  care  for  the  speed  of  the  racers,  and  watched  them  simply  to 
see  which  came  in  ahead,  so  as  to  determine  bets.      The  horses 


nr.AUTiFur.  women. 


36,? 


were  larffc  and  strong,  not  far  from  16  hands.  I  thouglit,  and  too 
licavy  in  the  witliers  for  gooil  speeders.  It  woidd  be  a  j^ood  idea 
if  H,i,dit  and  otiierwise  worthless  horses  were  e.vcludeil  from  the 
turf,  for  then  races  would  certainly  improve  stock  by  encouragintj 
l)reeilin^  for  size  as  well  as  action.  After  the  races,  behind  a 
handsome  pair  of  horses,  we  diove  up  and  down  the  drive  in  tiie 
park  near  the  race  course,  and  saw  the  turnouts.  There  were 
some  fine  four-in-hands,  and  some  capital  roadsters.  The  two 
most  d.-ishin^;  youni;  ladies  were  a  couple  of  German  actresses, 
whom  I  hail  seen  on  the  grand-stand  of  the  I'litt-,  I  heard  it  was 
in  connection  with  one  of  these  that  a  petty  scandal  lately  arose 
concerning  Servia's  king,  Milan.  To  get  rid  of  it  he  gave  out  that 
he  "meant  no  harm."  It  is  strange  that  the  Lord's  anointed  can 
be  nauj;hty,  and  still  stranger  th.it  the  Lord  so  freijuently  makes 
such  sad  mistakes  in  His  selections.  Poor,  weak  lunnan  nature  is 
liable  to  fearful  temptations  in  HuiU'  try,  without  the  aid  of  Ger- 
many in  sending  down  any  of  its  sirens.  I  windtl  advise  Ameri- 
can ladies  who  visit  Pesth  with  their  husbands  to  be  very  loving 
to  their  liege  lords  while  in  this  land  of  beauty.  A  loving  wife  or 
old  age  helps  greatly  to  make  a  saint  of  a  man.  The  beautiful 
women  of  Pestli  are  certainly  no  detraction  from  Hungary's  other 
charms.  But  I  will  have  to  admit  they  lace  most  fearfully.  It  is 
strange  that  a  woman  will  so  mar  nature's  mold  of  beauty.  A 
very  small  waist  is  a  deformity,  not  a  beauty.  And  yet  women 
ruin  their  health  to  reach  a  perfection  of  deformity. 


I 


i- 


1 .  I- 


u 


>   II 


■n 


nmt 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


VIENNA— TAXKS—rilE  \  iCK  OF  LOTTERY— AUSTRIAN    Dl'.KHV— I 
— RlNc;  S'lRASSE— MUSEUMS— ENVIRONS. 


IPS 


i/i  . 

'f 

,    1 
''   i    ' 

-'1, 

['::( 


f !!  : 


,^ 


Vienna,  May   30,    188S. 

A  FEW  weeks  ago  Francis  Joseph,  Emperor  of  Austria,  cele- 
brated the  40tli  anniversary  of  the  commencement  of  his  reign.  If 
the  sucC'-ss  of  his  rt^gime  were  to  be  measured  by  the  growth  of 
population  and  the  splendor  of  the  improvements  of  his  capital,  he 
certainly  should  iiave  felt  proudly  satisfied  as  he  lode  along  its 
streets  on  the  13th  of  May.  When  he  lifted  the  veil  from  tiic 
pile  of  bronze  and  marble  which  so  fittingly  commemorates  the 
glorious  reign  of  the  immortal  Maria  Theresa,  and,  looking  about 
him,  saw  the  magnificent  public  and  private  buildings  in  the 
vicinity,  which  are  but  a  part — an  epitome — of  the  whole  of  this 
beautiful  city,  he  certainly  could  have  had  the  right  to  expixt 
that  a  grateful  posterity  would  hereafter  erect  a  grand  monument 
to  commemorate  his  own  reign.  I  have  not  the  ability  ,0  say 
whether  such  measurement  would  be  correct  or  not.  "'  No  one." 
said  the  wise  man  of  the  long  past,  "  can  be  called  fortunate  till 
after  his  death."  A  contemporary  can  call  his  king  a  great  con- 
queror, but  he  cannot  pronounce  him  a  wise  ruler.  Time  alone  can 
apply  the  true  touchstone  and  enable  one  to  pass  such  judgment. 
A  people  may  accumulate  we  dth  and  build  noble  edifices  under  a 
king;  they  may  be  ga)-  and  happy,  free  and  i  (dependent  in  their 
daily  movements,  and  yet  may  be  nursing  the  viper  of  poisonous 
immorality:  may  be  cultivating  the  noxious  plant,  national 
luxury,  and  effeminate  love  c  f  ease,  while  accumulating  wealth 
and  building  monuments.  Government  may  encourage  these 
vices  while  giving  apparent  prosperity. 

The  reign  of  the  Mogul  Aurungzebe  was  one  of  gorgeous 
splendor,  but  his  kingdom  was  splitting  into  fragments  while 
revelling.  Pericles  made  Athjus  the  seat  of  the  world's  art.  but 
the  Atl  enians,  while  all  becoming  connoi.s.seurs,  were  losing  their 
hardy  manhood.  Lycurgus  was  a  harsh  tyrant,  and  made  Spar- 
tans use  coarse  food  for  luxuries  and  hard  stones  for  beds  ;  but 
their  mu.scles  became  iron,  and  their  bravery  was  turned  into 
heroi.sm.  Austria's  emperor  has  built  a  wonderful  capital  and  en- 
rolls a  huge  army,  but  the  hated,  plodding  Jews  are  accumulating 

3A4 


h 


•'.  ,1 


i88S. 


A  RAGE  FOR  GAMBLING. 


365 


all  the  wealth,  and  the  people  are  tauglit  at  the  thresholds  of 
churches  to  gamble.  Pressed  for  means  to  exhibit  grandeur, 
government  has  its  lottery  "  cassas  "  everywhere — near  cathe- 
drals, in  museums,  a*"  austellungen,  at  railway  stations — with 
placards  displaying  the  tempting  prizes  to  be  won,  and  sells  lottery 
tickets  for  five  and  ten  kreutzers — that  is,  two  and  a  quarter  and 
four  and  a  half  cents.  Every  class  buys  tickets,  and  all  are  taught 
that  it  is  a  good  thing  to  do.  The  porter  stops  at  a  corner,  lays 
down  his  heavy  burden  for  a  moment,  and  buys  a  five-kreutzer 
carte  :  a  poor  sewing-woman,  trudging  wearily  home  with  her 
little  daii\'  wages,  bends  her  steps  aside  to  invest  a  part  of  her 
little  earnings  in  tickets  ;  a  beggar  shows  his  bruised  limbs  and 
with  his  alms  buys  a  ticket  ;  mothers  going  to  St.  Stephen's  with 
their  white-robed  daughters,  jiurely  clad,  to  be  united  to  holy 
cliurch  on  confirmation  day,  pause  in  Stephen's  place  and  pur- 
ciiase  a  billet  with  five  kreutzers  saved  from  the  cost  of  flowers. 

Gambling  is  a  rage.  On  Sunday  I  was  at  the  Austrian  Derby. 
There  were  40,000  in  attendance.  All  seemed  intent  as  they 
were  the  Sunday  before  a^  Buda-Pesth  on  purchasing  pools.  No 
one  cared  a  particle  for  the  character  of  the  horses  or  the  beauty 
of  their  movements  ;  all  were  bent  simply  upon  winning  a  i^rize 
or  a  place.  I  walked  again  and  again  through  the  surging  mass  ; 
I  heard  but  one  familiar  word — "  gulden,"  "  gulden  " — everywhere 
"  gulden."  All  are  intent  upon  getting  .something  for  nothing. 
Men  and  women  pawn  their  clothes,  pawn  their  cooking  utensils, 
pawn  any  thing  that  a  pawn-shop  will  take  to  get  money  to  buy 
iotteiy  tickets  and  racing  pools.  Suicides  are,  I  am  told,  of  fre- 
([uent  occunonce,  because  every  thing,  the  last  cent,  has  been 
spent  in  liic  vain  hope  of  winning  a  prize,  and  when  all  is  gone 
t!v  grave  is  the  dismal  prize.  The  emperor's  great-grandfather's 
monument  has,  in  deep-cut  letters,  the  enconium  that  he  united 
the  empire  and  preserved  \.\\iz  z\\\\xq\\.  I  think  it  was  the  great- 
grandfather. Is  the  church  being  upheld  by  this  fearful  mode  of 
rai.-^ing  money  ?  Maria  Theresa  sits  on  yonder  square  in  all  the 
majesty  of  blazing  bronze.  .She  is  surrounded  by  her  wise  coun- 
sellors and  heroic  generals  ,  she  herself  is  in  colossal  proportions; 
the  others  i  re  of  heroic  mould.  If  the  sj)irit  of  the  great  empress 
hovers  over  her  metallic  brow  and  1'^ -"ks  over  this  gorgeous  city, 
is  it  satisfied  when  seeing  her  empire  upheld  by  a  sy.stem  of  rais- 
ing money  which  tends  to  uphold  ;,ambling  ?  Twenty  odd  mill- 
ions of  lottery  tickets  were  sold  la:-.t  year.  Some  say  a  vast  deal 
more.  The  bulk  of  it  is  taken  from  the  masses,  and  the  govern- 
ment pocketed  about  $10,000,000  as  its  profits.  Time  will  tell 
whether  his  majesty's  reign  will  be  a  good  one  or  not.  "  No  man 
CM\  be  called  fortunate  until  after  he  be  dead." 

Thirty-six  years  ago  I  spent  a  month  or  so  in  Vienna.  I  J:  had 
400,000  people,  and  was  a  charming  place  for  a  young  man  co  live 
in.     A  gulden  would  i)urchase  more  of  comfort  and  pleasure  than 


si 


.At 


}'m 


[!]l!.   1 


\i  ► 


!      ' 


11   -^f 


.■yj\'i 


IJfM 


!»^ 


f'Si 


\\ 


I 

i 


1     , 

I'll; 

■  1    .:[  } 

'1*1,  u   , 


i''  ■     -  I 


!■,    i 


r\ 


lU- 


mm 


\     \\  -'h' 


360 


./  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


a  JoUar  weald  in  America.  There  were  a  few  good  buildings, 
and  arounc  the  "  city  "  a  picturesque  old  wall.  Beyond  this  was 
a  broad  esplanade  in  trees  and  grass,  marking  where  were  once 
the  fortifications  which  Napoleon  had  destroyed.  Beyond  this 
esplanade  (glacis  it  was  then  called)  were  the  vorstiidten,  or  su- 
burbs, in  which  dwelt  four  fifths  of  the  whole  population.  At  or 
about  sundown,  the  workshops  principally  in  the  '*  city,"  /.  c, 
within  the  old  walls,  would  pour  out  their  thousands  of  toilers. 
I  used  to  walk  and  talk  with  these  (I  was  trying  to  learn  German) 
wlu'n  they  crossed  the  broad  esplanade  going  to  their  homes. 
The  people  seemed  to  be  industrious,  frugal,  good-humored,  and 
fairly  contented.  It  was  only  when,  after  finding  I  was  an  Amer- 
ican, that  a  spirit  of  discontent  would  occasionally  crop  out,  and 
it  would  then  be  shown  that  the  memory  of  '48  was  yet  alive,  and 
that  Kossuth  was  considered  something  more  than  a  rebel.  There 
was  luxury  among  the  elite  and  nobility,  but  as  a  general  thini; 
there  was  not  an  air  among  the  people  of  extravagance.  The 
emperor  was  young  and  pale,  and  in  his  Austrian  uniform  of 
pure  white,  looked  very  youthful  and  slender,  and  with  his  blonde 
hair  had  almost  a  girlish  appearance.  He  drove  by  the  other  (la\- 
in  the  blue  uniform  of  a  genera!  oflficer,  and  his  beard  and  hair 
seemed  perfectly  white.  He.  too,  has  changed,  but  not  more 
than  the  city  he  has  so  beautified.  The  old  wall  has  gone,  ami 
in  its  place  is  a  broad  street  180  feet  wide,  with  bridle-path,  grass 
plats,  and  wide  sidewalks  with  ([uadruple  rows  of  trees,  and  over- 
looked by  great  buildings,  nearly  every  one  of  palatial  splendor. 

This,  the  celebrated  Ring  Strasse,  is  not  a  circular  ring  about 
the  inner  city,  but  is  a  succession  of  short,  straight  streets  or 
boulevards,  running  into  and  meeting  each  other  at  verj'  obtuse 
angles  and  making  the  inner  city  a  great  polygon.  The  lines  of 
great  structures  are  often  separated  by  the  width  of  a  block,  or 
somewhat  less,  leaving  fine  stjuarcs  surrounded  by  palaces,  muse- 
ums, and  picture-galleries,  by  Parliament  house,  rathhaus,  and 
churches,  all  erected  by  able  architects  and  replete  with  architec- 
tural ornamentations.  Some  of  the  squares  have  in  their  centre:^ 
monuments  in  high  art,  others  are  laid  out  in  gardens,  witli  fin" 
trees  and  exquisite  flower  parterres  and  fountains.  Hack  from 
the  Ring  .Strasse  on  the  oui^r  side  are  streets  more  or  less  i)ar.il 
lei  with  it,  and  bisected  with  narrower  streets  called  alle}  s,  in 
contradistinction  to  the  lateral  ones  called  streets.  These  streets 
and  alleys,  which  cover  the  old  esplanade,  are  lined  with  buildings 
little  inferior  to  those  on  the  Ring.  The  suburbs,  with  perhaps 
nine  tenths  of  the  population,  and  lying  outside  of  these,  have 
struggled  to  tear  down  the  old  and  rebuild  new  houses,  vying  with 
those  of  the  new  Ring  city.  The  city,  inside  of  the  old  walls  is 
not  much  improved,  and  I  can  see  many  landmarks  not  wholly  foi- 
gotten.  The  new  city  is,  however,  unique  in  its  manner  of  being 
laid  out,  and  is  unequalled  in  beauty  anywhere  else  in  the  world. 


\  A 


/■K.LWES  JOSEPH  AND  HIS  IMPROVEMENTS.       367 

AH  of  this  has  been  brought  about  since  Francis  Joseph  as- 
cended the  throne  40  years  ago.  Are  the  people  better  off? 
They  are  polite  and  kindly,  and  elegant  in  their  manners,  and 
seem  cheerful.  But,  if  1  be  not  misinformed,  their  home  life 
lacks  nearly  every  concomitant  necessary  to  make  a  real  home. 
Taxed,  probably  in  excess  of  any  other  people,  they  cannot  have 
the  house  necessary  for  a  home,  and  cannot  afford  to  purchase  the 
food  needful  for  health  or  enjoyment. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  frightful  encouragement  government  gives 
to  a  spirit  of  gambling.  Men  cannot  be  made  moral  directly 
by  law,  or  prepared  for  heaven  by  legal  enactments.  Laws 
cannot  make  men  good,  but  laws  can  make  men  bad.  That 
is  the  best  law  which  loaves  man  as  free  as  is  possible  for 
the  safety  of  society  ;  which  protects  him  in  his  life,  liberty, 
and  propcrt)',  and  leaves  him  free  and  able  to  cultivate  ethics 
and  leligion.  l'.ut  when  those  in  high  places  lead  vicious 
lives  the  people  are  apt  to  catch  the  disease  ;  or  when  gov- 
Lrnment  encourages  immoral  practices  for  its  own  gain,  then 
government  undermines  the  very  life  of  its  people.  There  are 
certain  classes  of  vices  which  no  law  can  prevent  ;  these  may  be 
controlled  h\  government  ;  and  to  do  so  many  of  the  best  states- 
men think  a  judicious  license  system  the  wisest  course.  But 
when  the  powers  that  be  encourage  these  vices  for  the  purpose  of 
gaining  revenue,  then  they  are  as  criminal  as  the  participants  in 
the  vicious  acts.  Gambling  grows  out  01  a  universal  yearning  in 
man  for  excitement,  and  the  equally  universal  desire  to  gain 
sometliing  for  nothing  ;  to  eat,  d-  '  a\\(\  be  merry  without  work. 
Woe  to  the  government  which  this  human  weakness!     It 

may  gain  revenue  to-day,  but  it  saj-  uie  \ery  foundation  of  soci- 
ety by  making  jilodding  industry  unpopular.  .  :id  alluring  men  to 
cultivate  those  desires  which  should  be  subdiuil. 

'I  he  Emperor  of  Austria  has  one  of  the  most  di'Ticult  of  en;j)ires 
to  govern.  It  is  composed  of  many  nationalities  and  many  peo[)les 
speaking  different  languages,  each  jealous  of  the  other,  and  .some 
of  thcni  absolutely  hating  some  of  the  others.  Each  "f  tht-so 
strives  for  ascendency.  The  result  is,  there  is  the  Gern  ,  u  party, 
the  Bohemian  party,  the  Slavonic  party,  the  Hungariai.,  .uul  half 
a  dozen  other  parties.  These  heterogeneous  peoples  are  hard  to 
hoKl  in  hand  :  and  Austria  has  a  constant  danger  in  a  war  which 
may  arouse  the  separate  nationalities.  For  ages  the  Austri  ^ns 
have  shown  an  unconquerable  hostility  to  the  Jews.  S  n-  time 
since  it  was  proclaimed  that  this  was  about  to  end;  .iiat  the 
Austrian  Roth.schild  had  been  admitted  to  court  and  now  had 
the  right  of  entree  into  II of  circles,  It  seems,  however,  that  this 
did  not  arise  from  any  libca-al  change  of  heart  on  the  part  of  the 
people.  The  government  .saw  a  speck  of  war  on  the  horizon,  and 
was  looking  around  to  find  where  it  could  raise  some  millions. 
The  wily  Jew  saw  a  chance.     He  let  it  be  known  that   if  he  and 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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his  family  were  not  good  enough  to  enter  the  palace  his  money 
was  not  good  enough  to  %o  into  the  treasury.  He  received  his 
card  and  now  Hof  doors  open  to  him.  I5ut  ever  since  then  a 
bitterer  feeling  exists  among  the  people  towards  the  Jew  than 
ever  before.  The  Jews,  however,  are  at  the  top  of  the  heap. 
They  own  the  finest  buildings  and  the  richest  property  in  Buda- 
Pcsth  and  many  here.  They  own  many  of  the  mines.  They  own 
some  of  the  petroleum  wells  of  Russia,  that  is,  Rothschild  does, 
and  therefore  gets  the  Russian  oil  in  here  on  terms  very  unfriendly 
to  the  American  product.  They  own  all,  or  nearlj-  all,  the  print- 
ing establishment's  in  Vienna  and  run  the  papers.  The  Austrians 
are  like  the  rai  gnavving  the  file — the)-  can  swear  and  grit  their 
teeth,  but  the  file  yields  up  none  of  its  hardness. 

An  anti-Jew  party  exists  i^nd  openly  proclaims  itself  in  Parlia- 
ment. When  the  old  German  Kaiser  lay  on  his  last  bed  a  paper 
here  announcetl  his  death  before  the  fact.  The  anti-Semitic 
leader  in  Parliament  tried  to  bring  the  newspaper  men  to  their 
knees — and  he  lies  in  prison  for  his  rashness.  When  the  Maria 
Theresa  statue  was  about  to  be  unveiled  many  thousands — all 
(icrmans,  I  am  told — sang  one  night  near  the  monument  the 
"  Waclit  am  Rhein."  Some  of  the  leaders  were  arrested.  The 
govcrmnent  encouraged  the  idea  that  this  was  a  purely  anti- 
-Semitic  proceeding  ;  that  the  meeting  was  simi)ly  in  honor  of  the 
man  wiio  is  in  prison  and  whose  house  is  near  b}-  ;  and  I  near 
that  Germany's  chancellor  encouraged  this  belief  and  advised  the 
rulers  here  to  take  that  position  and  to  punish  the  singers. 
-Shrewd  men,  however,  assert  that  the  thing  was,  in  fact,  a  (jcr- 
man  meeting,  as  such.  Ikit  it  will  not  do  for  the  people  to  think 
there  is  such  a  feeling  existing  among  the  man}'  million  Germans 
who  are  subjects  of  this  empire  :  and  although  the  chanc-llor 
knows  that  there  is  a  strong  German  party  here,  he  also  knows 
that  Germany  does  not  want  any  German  complications  in 
Austria;  he  knows  that  l^Vancis  Joseph's  kingdom  is  the  strong- 
est wall  which  can  possibly  be  kept  between  the  Russian  and  the 
I'russian  ;  that  if  Austria  shoiiUl  be  destroyed  a  huge  part  of  its 
people  are  more  in  sympath\-  with  Russ'.i  than  with  Germany, 
and  would  in  all  probability  siile  with  '.ne  bear.  Therefore  he 
advised  that  the  trouble  near  the  great  empress'  statue  should 
be  treated  purely  as  an  anti-Semitic  outburst.  Queer  if  the 
"  Wacht  am  Rhein  "  has  become  a  new  watchword  against  the 
Israelites.  All  of  this  I  hear.  I  am  only  a  voyageur,  seeing  as  I 
run,  and  claim  the  inestimable  right  of  changing  my  mind  when 
I  learn  better. 

I  said  this  was  one  of  the  most  heavily  taxed  of  all  people. 
There  is  no  real-estate  ta.x,  as  understood  by  us.  A  house  is 
taxed  either  on  its  rental  or  on  its  numb'-r  of  habitable  rooms,  or 
on  both.  A  rich  man's  house  of  a  dozen  magnificent  rooms  pays 
the  same  ta.x  as  a  poorly  built  boartiin.^house  with  a  like  number 


l»'i 


» - 


THE  JEWS  OF  VIENNA      TAXES. 


369 


of  rooms  A  man  pointed  out  to  me  a  large  buildins^with  a  huge 
restaurant  on  tlie  ground  floor  and  flats  overhead,  and  told  me 
that  32  per  cent,  of  its  rents  were  paid  to  government — municipal 
and  national — in  taxes.  I  have  taken  some  pains  to  learn  what 
are  the  rates  paid  here.  It  would  be  tedious  to  write  them  down, 
liut  it  is  enough  to  say  that  the  average  tax  paid  in  the  large 
cities  which  levy  an  octroi  duty  is  45  per  cent,  of  the  individual 
incomes.  An  octroi  duty  is  levied  in  some  eight  to  ten  (I  think) 
cities  on  every  article  of  food  or  drink  which  comes  into  them. 
There  is  hut  one  edible  which  gets  into  Vienna  without  this  pay- 
ment, and  that  is  the  eggs  which  pigeons  lay  on  St.  Stephen's 
noble  tower.  The  owner  of  buildings  directly  pays  the  tax,  but, 
of  course,  the  occupants  are  really  the  ultimate  tax-payers.  The 
result  is  that  few  people  here  have  flats  large  enough  to  entertain 
their  friends.  Their  social  life  is  consequently  in  the  cafes, 
restaurants,  and  beer-hall.s.  They  eat  a  frugal  meal  at  home,  and 
spend  their  evenings  in  some  establishment  with  friends,  taking 
lager  and  nibbling  bread  and  cheese,  with,  when  tiiey  can,  a  dish 
of  meat.  Families,  who  appear  in  public  well  dressed,  elegant, 
and  well-to-do  peojile,  have  not.  frequently,  sleeping-rooms  for  the 
d.iughter  and  son  of  tiie  house.  The  young  lady  sleeps  on  a  sofa 
in  the  parlor  and  the  brother  on  a  sofa  in  the  hall.  And  why  ?  He- 
cause  the  taxes  on  the  house-rooms,  the  taxes  on  their  business, 
are  so  high  that  they  cannot  afford  rooms  for  all.  A  genuine 
home  life  is  the  highest  encourager  of  virtue  and  economy.  What 
with  the  house  tax,  the  income  tax,  the  farm  tax,  and  others  use- 
less to  name,  it  is  a  struggle  for  the  people  to  get  through  the 
year,  and  true  home  life  is  hardly  known. 

A  man's  business  is  taxed  as  a  manufacturing  one,  even  if  he 
carries  it  on  in  his  own  house  and  employs  no  other  laborers  than 
himself  and  his  children.  I  was  given  an  instance  of  the  weight 
of  this  burden.  A  man  carried  on  his  business  in  a  flat,  saj*  30  by 
50  feet,  a  part  of  it  being  cut  off  for  his  family  living  rooms.  The 
entire  income  from  his  business  was  about  3,200  gulden,  of  this 
he  paid  over  1,000  for  his  manufacturers'  ta.x.  But  this  was  only 
a  part  of  his  burden.  Mis  landlord  paid  nearly  50  per  cent,  of 
his  rental  as  a  house  tax.  This  the  tenant  partly  paid.  He  paid 
taxes  on  the  bread  and  coffee  he  had  for  his  breakfast,  on  the^ 
lean  beef  and  potatoes  he  had  for  his  dinner,  on  the  beer  and 
bread  he  and  his  family  enjoyed  when  they  went  to  a  garden  or 
cafi!:  for  f  vcning  society. 

The  taxes  in  the  octroi  paying  cities  are,  as  far  as  I  can  learn, 
bclweer  44  and  46  per  cent,  on  houses;  in  other  towns  and  in  the 
cointry  about  30  to  35  per  cent. ;  that  is,  upon  the  available  pro- 
ceeds of  the  several  properties  and  upon  industries  of  every  kind  ; 
manufacturing,  farming,  etc.,  from  30  to  50  percent,  upon  a  man's 
enihe  earnings.  These  data  I  have  not  taken  from  public  docu- 
ments, bu<^  from  informed  persons.     The  whole  system  of  taxes 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


seems  to  be  laid  so  as  to  touch  as  little  as  possible  ihc  rich  and 
the  noble.  A  grand  park,  a  great  shooting  forest  pays  no  tax. 
A  .stable  with  its  stud,  or  filled  with  costly  saddle  and  carriage 
horses,  pays  no  tax,  nor  does  the  farmer's  ;  but  while  the  former 
costs  thousands  and  is  an  article  dc  luxe,  the  latter  is  of  lattice  or 
boards  and  is  for  industrial  purposes.  The  palace,  witli  courts, 
porticoes,  and  halls,  pays  only  a  tax  upon  the  rooms  fiUed  for 
habitation  ;  and  such  rooms,  which  are  possibly  larger  than  the 
ordinary  man's  whole  house,  pays  no  more  than  the  little  sleeping- 
rooms  of  the  laborer.  A  village  hotel  with  20  rooms  pays  the 
same  tax  as  the  grand  chateau  on  a  hill  with  20  living  rooms  and 
a  park  of  500  acres. 

A  single  man  or,  indeed,  a  man  of  small  means,  can  live  here 
very  cheaply  and  have  a  great  many  charming  amusements, 
equalled  nowhere  else  excepting  Paris.  He  must  be  satisfied, 
however,  with  a  light  breakfast  of  coffee  and  simple  bread.  Ho 
must  not  expect  even  to  taste  soup  in  which  a  shin  bone  has 
taken  a  bath— perhaps  there  may  be  a  suspicion  of  a  scrap  in  the 
pot.  But,  usually,  if  any  thing  is  seen  resembling  grease  on  the 
soup  plate  it  was  simply  put  on  for  show.  He  must  not  expect 
much  variety  in  his  meats.  He  will  do  well  if  several  eat  to- 
getlier,  each  one  taking  a  dish  and  then  dividing  up.  His  beer 
costs  nearly  as  much  as  in  Chicago.  Wine  is  cheap  and  good. 
But  generous  livers,  or  fat  livers,  as  our  'aboring  people  are, 
will  have  to  pay  more  here  for  subsistence  than  in  America, 
and,  while  so  living,  will  receive  less  than  one  third  of  the  wages. 
And  yet,  with  all  of  this  true,  we  find  that  the  man  who  most 
loudly  inveighs  against  American  laws  ;  the  man  who  says  tiiat 
laws  are  all  a  curse,  and  that  no  government  is  better  than  any 
government,  and  that  in  America  the  podr  man  is  but  the  rich 
man's  unwilling  slave  ;  the  man  who  talks  most  of  this  stuff,  will 
be  found  to  have  come  from  some  part  of  Austria.  It  seems  as 
if  the  oppression  of  the  govennncnt  under  which  he  was  born 
.and  has  grown  up  has  .so  embittered  his  soul  that  he  hates  the 
very  name  of  government.  I  hope  this  feeling  lies  in  the  heart 
•of  only  a  few  who  seek  asylum  on  our  shores.  It  would  be  a  sad 
.day,  should  America  have  to  shut  her  doors  against  the  oppressed 
of  other  lands,  and  the  down-trodden. 

Vienna  is  not  only  a  beautiful  city,  but  is  a  most  charming  one 
to  the  tourist.  Here  he  has  beautiful  drives  and  delightful 
promenades;  a  magnificent  opera-house  in  which  the  opera  is 
generally  well  rendered  ;  fine  theatres,  one  just  finished  most 
elegant ;  fine  hotels  and  in  large  numbers,  and  the  best  of  all 
garden  music. 

The  Prater  is  a  park  of  4,000  odd  acres;  on  one  avenue  in  it, 
and  all  close  together,  are  some  six  or  eight  beer  and  coffee 
gardens,  with  tables  and  seats  under  fine  trees,  with  the  fragrance 
of  flowers  filling  the  air,  and  with  bands  of  music,  military  and 


1 


\  1 

L 

THE  PR  A  TER.     TIPS. 


371 


stringed,  of  so  good  a  character  that  they  can  satisfy  the  most  cul- 
tivated car.  Here  arc  accommodations  for  many  thousands,  and 
on  afternoons  and  evenings  of  summer  days,  thousands  of  the 
nicest  people  are  promenading  or  seated,  taking  their  evening 
meals,  listening  to  the  fine  music  and  watching  each  other.  The 
dingy  room  is  left  behind,  and  here  a  man  brings  his  family  and 
over  his  lager  makes  his  home.  In  another  avenue,  not  far  off, 
are  cheap  amusements  of  every  kind — light  theatres,  games, 
puppet  shows,  flying  Dutchmen — in  fact,  every  possible  kind  of 
fun  to  be  had  for  a  few  krcutzers.  Here,  too,  are  thousands  of 
those  who  seek  much  pleasure  at  little  cost.  Here  a  thoughtful 
tourist  can  learn  a  vast  deal  of  life  and  human  nature  in  a  short 
time  and  at  little  expense.  Vienna,  one  would  think,  is  all  on  the 
Prater  in  the  late  afternoon  and  early  evening  ;  but  Vienna  is  a 
city  which  claims  about  1,000,000  population  and  no  one  stays  at 
home  up  to  ten  o'clock.  The  town,  however,  seems  to  shut  its 
might)' jaws  at  ten  and  the  streets  are  comparatively  deserted,  and 
all  because  of  the  porter  and  his  tip. 

The  tip  (trink-geld)  is  as  decided  a  feature  in  this  city  as  is 
backshish  in  the  worst  town  in  tlie  Orient.  You  go  into  a  cafe;  a 
waiter  brings  you  coffee,  another  bread  and  a  paper.  Kach 
expects  a  tip.  When  you  are  through  the  head  waiter  comes  for 
the  pay.  Me  expects  a  tip.  You  go  into  a  restaurant  ;  one 
waiter  brings  you  food,  another  your  wine,  a  third  your  bread,  and 
a  fourth  collects  the  change.  Each  expects  a  tip,  and  they  ail 
wear  surh  nice  full  suits  of  black,  and  such  white  cravats  that  it  is 
hard  to  resist  their  polite  smiles.  Hut  woe  to  the  man,  who, 
failing  to  lip  them,  returns!  Their  memories  are  wonderfully 
tenacious  and  the  forgetful  man  will  find  it  out.  When  he  sees 
three  or  four  near  him  waited  upon  who  came  after  he  had  been 
seated,  and  sees  a  nice,  juicy  piece  of  roast  on  the  next  tabic, 
while  lie  is  wearing  his  teeth  away  on  the  toughest  gristle  of  the 
toughest  beast  that  had  roamed  the  fields,  he  will  swear  and 
resolve  to  resist  the  villainous  custom,  but  after  a  while  he  will  do 
as  the  Viennese  do— pay  and  quarrel  not.  They  all  say  it  is  an 
outrageous  custom  ;  but  they  shrug  their  shoulders  and  ask : 
"  What  are  we  to  do?"  "Why,  resist."  "Ah!  sir,  life  is  too 
short."  Now,  what  has  this  to  do  with  getting  in  early?  This: 
Every  house  with  its  flats  has  its  porter,  and  this  porter  closes  the 
front  door  at  ten,  and  the  lodger  who  is  then  out  stays  out.  or  pays 
the  [)orter  a  half  gulden  to  let  him  in.  In  cheaper  houses  a 
quarter  gulden.  Now  a  half  gulden  or  a  quarter  gulden  is  a  great 
deal  to  a  man  whose  daily  wage  is  only  one  or  two  gulden,  and 
that  one  or  two  has  been  left  at  the  theatre,  the  garden  or  a  caf*i. 
Ergo,  he  goes  home  before  ten. 

Besides  the  gardens  in  the  parks,  the  city  abounds  in  large  and 
elegant  coffee  houses,  places  capable  each  ot  seating  at  little 
tables  several  hundred.     They  are  in  amazing  numbers  and  in 


>   u 


\n> 


,V':' 


»■; '  M 


i'  i 


.1 


'1 


'      '■    1 

If 

'    ; 

/    1 

1 

; 

1         ( 

1      • 

,     > 

^  ; 

^1 

f 

J; 

^ 

I-". 


37» 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


every  locality  and  to  suit  every  purse.  Vienna  possesses  sevenil 
fine  picture  galleries  and  museums.  In  them  there  arc  none  of 
those  chefs  d'cciivre  which  constitute  the  great  gems  of  art  and 
the  world's  wonders;  but  there  is  in  them  an  evenness  of  excel- 
lence surpassed  by  few  galleries  in  other  cities.  The  treasury 
contains  jewels,  crowns,  diamonds,  rubies,  all  extiuisitc  gems, 
highly  chased  works  in  gold  and  silver,  and  goblets  and  tankards 
in  ivory  and  crystal  of  surpassing  excellence,  and  the  collection 
of  antic;uities  is  rich  and  valuable.  In  the  galleries,  museums, and 
collections  the  student,  the  lover  of  art  and  the  searcher  after  tlie 
beautiful,  can  profitably  spend  weeks.  Close  by  the  city  there  are 
fine  excursions,  delicious  valleys,  cloistered  gardens  and  high 
eminences.  From  the  summit  of  Carlenberg,  reached  in  an  hour 
by  street  and  steam  rail,  and  by  a  cog-wheel  road,  is  presented  a 
picture  of  deliciously  wooded  mountains,  villas  and  vineyards, 
spreading,  cultivated  country,  with  broad,  meandering  waters  and 
vast  city  life,  second  only  to  that  from  the  mountain  above 
Scutari,  overlooking  Constantinople  and  the  Bosphorus.  There 
are,  however,  many  other  which  pleased  me  more,  which  sank  into 
my  very  soul.  They  were  simple  scenes  which  others,  perhaps, 
might  not  admire,  but  which  suggested  to  me  a  world  of  thought 
and  dreams  of  delight.  The  grand  view,  however,  made  no  such 
impression.  There  is  too  much  of  man's  work  in  the  great  city 
mapped  out  below  me  in  the  centre  of  the  vast  amphitheatre  of 
20  miles  across  and  fringed  by  the  high,  wooded  hills  and  distant 
mountains  ;  too  much  which  is  suggestive  of  toil  and  ambition  to 
suit  my  taste,  but  still,  as  a  cold  picture  it  is  wonderful.  I  like  to 
look  upon  a  landscape,  natural  or  on  canvas,  which  points  out 
some  half  hidden  nook,  into  which  I  would  like  to  steal  and 
dream  away  an  hour  ;  or  a  mountain  crag,  near  which  I  would  love 
to  climb  and  utter  a  shout,  and  then  listen  to  my  voice  as  it  rolls 
among  deep  caverns  or  is  caught  and  hurled  from  bold  precipice 
back  to  me  in  musical  echo. 

If  one  loves  to  live  among  holy  men  of  the  past  and  to  hear 
their  heart-felt  prayers  uttered  to  a  pitying  Redeemer,  he  can  be 
gratified  here  in  the  solemn  chapels  and  lofty  nave  of  .St. 
Stephen's  church, — into  which  the  sunlight  steals  through  deep 
windows  of  richly  stained  glass — surrounded  by  holy  pictures, 
deeply  moved  by  the  tones  of  the  old  organ,  and  awed  into 
solemn  thoughts;  he  can  then  go  out  and  look  up  to  the  noble 
tower  whose  spire  points  to  heaven  470  feet  above  where  he 
stands.  A  Gothic  church,  however,  vainly  appeals  to  my  imagi- 
nation ;  it  is  too  cold,  too  vault-like,  too  fitting  for  a  tomb  and  for 
dead  men's  bones.  The  mighty  dome,  with  its  rounded  vault, 
resembling  heaven's  high,  sunlit  arch,  with  the  light  of  heaven 
coming  in  from  far  above— this  and  these  make  the  church  which 
arouses  my  heart  and  touches  it  with  religious  feeling.  I  care  not 
for  the  Gothic  church  ;  it  was  the  invention  of  ascetic  monks  and 


VOLKS-GARTEN. 


373 


1''k1i 


lately  enslaved  Christians,  who  had  'not  learned  to  rcpjard  religion 
as  a  tliini,'  of  love,  but  simply  as  a  matter  of  hard  justice. 

To-day  has  been  one  of  Vienna's  great  holidays.  I  do  not 
know  how  it  is  called,  but  it  follows  the  May  confirinations. 
Stephen's  platz  and  the  streets  leading  to  it  were  packed  by 
thousands  coming  to  see  the  procession,  the  eight-in-hand  of  the 
k.iiser,  and  the  six  and  four  horse  carriages  of  other  inembcrs  of 
the  imperial  family  going  to  high  service  in  the  old  cathedral. 
These  evidences  of  pomp  are  pleasing  to  tlie  people,  but  to  an 
American  it  is  yet  more  pleasing  to  see  the  plain  carriage  drawn 
by  a  handsome  pair,  with  the  ruler  of  the  nation  riding  as  a 
simple  officer  unattended  by  out-riders  or  guards,  as  he  so  often 
does.  It  is  a  pleasing  thing  to  us  simple  folks  to  see  the  graceful 
young  crown  princess  driving  along  the  crowded  Trater  Haupt- 
allcc  and  returning  with  cordial  bow  the  generous  respect 
shown  by  the  people,  and  the  prince,  heir  to  the  Austrian 
diadem,  with  the  ribbons  guiiling  a  blooded  team  on  the  Ring 
Strasse.  Poor  Stephanie!  it  still  looks  as  if  the  Austrian  crown 
would  have  to  shine  on  the  head  of  a  daughter  of  the  house  of 
Hapsburg  instead  of  a  son. 

For  the  benefit  of  some  of  my  fair  friends  I  will  say,  that  at  the 
races  on  Sunday  the  princess  occupied  the  front  of  the  royal 
pavilion.  Siie  was  attended  by  two  ladies.  I  could  not  catch  the 
style  of  her  dress,  but  her  hat  was  so  covered  by  a  mass  of  red 
ostrich  feathers  that  it  resembled  a  high  crimson  helmet.  Her 
attendant  ladies  wore  pretty  bonnets,  ornamented  only  with  lace, 
ribbons,  and  a  few  flowers.  In  the  grounds  about  the  grand- 
stand for  the  ilitc  were  very  many  pretty  ladies,  dressed  in  ex- 
{juisite  out-door  costumes, — silks  of  bright  styles  on  the  married 
ones  ;  white  and  more  simple  robes  adorned  the  )-oung  hulies. 

One  of  the  most  charming  places  in  Vienna  is  the  Volks-garten, 
especially  on  the  Strauss  evenings.  Three  times  a  week  Kdward 
Strauss,  with  his  woiulerful  orchestra,  delights  the  lovers  of  music. 
Nearly  30  years  ago  Joliann  and  Joseph  started  these  summer  con- 
certs. Then  Edward  came  into  the  trio.  The  first  two  arc  gone 
where  there  is  an  endless  choir,  but  the  brother  kecp.^  u[i  the  rep- 
utation of  the  garden,  and  fills  it  with  deiighted  listeners,  who 
drink,  eat,  talk,  and  possibly  flirt  to  a  music  nowhere  clf.o  equalled. 
Alternately  |iieces  are  given  by  the  great  leader  and  by  a  military 
band  of  highly  finishetl  artists.  Here  one  can  ]iass  a  summer's 
evening  listening  and  dreaming,  dreaming  and  listening.  I  like 
opera,  but  am  not  educated  up  to  the  mark  ;  I  can  take  in  all  of 
Strauss.  When  he  played  Chopin's  funeral  march  a  few  evenings 
since  1  felt  one  -ould  go  to  his  own  funeral  without  a  sigh  if  he 
had  this  band  ivi  accompany  his  bier.  Willie  and  I  go  from  this 
to  Russia.  Johnie,  prefering  a  tour  through  Germany,  here  quits 
us.     I  hope  the  paws  of  the  bear  will  be  soft. 


\   ?i 


m 


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f     ! 


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1 1-1 


m 


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1 

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f  1 

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1 

ji 
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re  'i 


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u^ 


4 


^  I 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

RUN  TO  MOSCOW— WARSAW— THE  I'OLKS— SOBIESKI'S  rALACK— 

PEASANTS. 

Moscoiv,  jfune  dth  (or  May  2e„  old  style),   i888. 

From  Vienna  to  Mo.sco\v,  through  Warsaw,  is  about  1,250 
miles  by  rail;  that  is,  to  Graniza,  on  the  Polish  frontier,  250,  and 
thence  onward  1,511  versts,  or  1,007^  miles;  time  to  the  Polisii 
capital,  18  hours  ;  thence  on  iiere  34^  hours.  VVe  left  Vienn.i  at 
noon  on  the  1st  of  June,  and  had  a  very  pretty  run  till  the  close  of 
twilight,  wliich  was  not  until  considerably  past  nine  o'clock,  forwc 
were  already  nearly  in  latitude  51  degrees.  From  Vienna,  which 
lies  in  a  sort  of  b.isin,  the  country  was  for  some  two  hours  rather 
flat,  or  low  undulating,  well  cultivated,  and  quite  rich.  We  then 
entered  low  hills,  and  turning  the  western  end  of  tiie  little  Car- 
pathian Mountains  had  charming  scenery  ;  valleys  with  villages  of 
comfortable  houses;  tielils  bright  anil  green,  often  bordered  with 
trees;  scattered  copses  of  wood,  and  low  mountains  from  400  to 
500  feet  high,  clotheil  with  forest,  ami  now  and  then  crowned  by 
a  castle  or  old  keep  ;  some  of  the  large  villages,  with  their  white 
plastered  houses,  roofed  in  red  tile,  surrounding  a  tasteful  church, 
with  orchards  antl  scattered  fruit  trees,  were  really  pretty.  Other 
villages  were  of  thatched  roofs,  and  were  picturesque.  The  whole 
of  Moravia,  through  which  we  ran  for  some  six  hours,  seemetl  to 
have  a  cheerful  population,  if  one  could  judge  by  looking  at  the 
crowds  collected  about  the  stations.  I  noticed  everywhere  signs 
or  naines  which  showed  that  there  was  little  difference  between 
the  Bohemian  and  Moravian  language,  and  the  general  appearance 
of  the  people  proved  them  to  be  Czechs.  At  one  point  we  were 
for  some  time  within  sight  of  tall  chimneys,  from  which  poured 
long  lines  of  smoke.  This  is  the  principal  mining  district  of 
y\ustria,  or,  as  a  gentleman  informed  me,  the  Birmingham  and 
Sheffield  region  of  the  empire. 

Our  run  carried  us  near  two  famous  points  in  the  history  of 
Napoleon — Wagram  .md  Austerlitz — and  not  far  off  was  another 
name,  which,  when  1  was  a  boy,  always  awoke  in  my  heart  a  feel- 
ing of  indignation — Olmutz,  where  the  friend  of  America,  La- 
fayette, was  so  long  imprisoned.  I  felt  disposed  to  stop  and  make 
a  pilgrimage  to  its  old  donjon  kee[),  but  could  not  break  thejo'ir- 

374 


t 


1 888. 


RUSSIAN  TIME. 


375 


ncy  on  my  ticket.  How  certain  impressions  of  childhood  last,  and 
what  hold  they  often  take  upon  the  ima<;ination  !  When  L.i- 
fayctte  was  in  Lexington,  Ky.,  in  1825,  I  was  a  babe  in  arms. 
My  inotluT,  livintj  in  the  country,  could  not  leave  me  behind  when 
she  went  to  town  to  .see  the  ^reat  I'Vench  republican.  Standing 
in  a  crowd  when  he  passed  near,  she  held  her  child  towards  him. 
He  laid  his  hand  upon  its  head.  I  have  never  been  able  to  rid 
myself  of  the  feeling;  that  1  remembered  his  appearance,  and  that 
his  touch  had  almost  hallowed  my  brow.  One  of  thr  early  books 
given  me  was  a  life  of  Lafayette.  My  blood  almost  tingled  when 
I  read  of  Olmutz'  dungeon,  and  its  name  has  ever  since  been 
readily  brought  to  mind.  Napoleon's  name  awakens  the  French- 
man to  a  love  of  glory;  but  Lafayette's  lies  close  to  the  spot 
whence  spring  the  heart-beats  in  an  American's  breast. 

I  said  in  my  l.ist  that  I  hoped  to  find  the  claw  of  the  Russian 
bear  lined  with  velvet.  Its  fn^t  touch  upon  our  shoulders  was 
certainly  not  unkind.  The  officers  of  the  custom-house  at  Graniza 
were  courteous,  and  jiasscd  our  little  baggage  through  with  oidy 
perfunctor\'  examination,  and  the  conductors  and  servants  of  the 
railroad  have  been  polite  and  attentive,  and,  seeing  our  entire 
ignorance  of  the  langaugc,  have  invariabl)'  put  themselves  to  some 
trouble  to  enable  us  to  get  over  difficulties.  This  they  have  ilone, 
tot),  witlu>ut  any  apparent  exi)ectation  of  reward.  Our  first  night 
was  short,  and  an  early  daybreak  enabled  us  to  see  the  country  for 
two  hours  before  reaching  Warsaw  at  si.x  A.M.  The  railway  car- 
riages are  good,  and  so  fashioned  that  we  did  not  find  it  necessary 
to  take  the  sleeper.  The  sleeper  has  only  one  window  to  each 
compartment,  and,  there  being  ahead}-  one  occupant  in  each,  we 
found  our  opportunity  for    ooking  out  to  be  limited.     The  ordi-. 

lycar  gave  us  full  facilities  for  drawing  out  the  seats  and  ni. iking 
fortaijle  bed.     The  couiUrv  traversed  in  I'olaiul  after 


n.i 


a  ver\'  com 


davbreak  was  tlat,  but  verv  nrotluctive,  and   th 


le  waving  rye,  al- 


ready headed,  was  beiuling  under  the  breeze  ;  the  winter  wheat  is 


not  yet  in 


head. 


and  the  sprini 


i  crop  is  now  beintr  sown.     I  asked 


a  gentleman  if  it  was  not  very  late  to  be  putting  in  this  crop.    His 
reply  was  that  "  We  always  do  this  in   May."     "  Hut."   I   said. 


tins  IS    une 


louiu 


!  I 


J' 


O  no  I      It  is  oiiU-  the  20th  of   Max- 


was  i: 


clays  y 


ounger  than  I  was  the  dav  bef 


left  Austria  on  June  1st;    we   entered   Russi; 

stick  to  the  old  st\'le  as  long  as  possible.     How  readily  an  okl  man 


Then  I 

We  had 

I  May  2 1  St.     I  shall 


ore. 


atch 


towards 


es  at  any  straw  which  seems 


to  float  him  back,  even  in  f.mcv. 


i  his 


you 


th 


So  intent  was  I  in  looking  out  upon  the  land  of  Kosciusko — 
another  name  dear  to  the  American — so  carried  back  into  the 
past  with  the  tales  of  heroism  and  the  legends  of  daring  which 
cluster  about  the  name  of  Poland  ;  so  filled  with  its  love  of  free- 
dom—  often  misplaced,  but  never  dj'ing  -sorrowing  over  its  sor- 
rows, and  sighing  over  its  woes,  that  I  did  not  notice  that  we  were 


;  f 


■hi  '■**■ 


^: 


I  * 


111 


^^  •;;■ 


M 


■* , 


376 


A  RACF.  Wrni  THE  SUN. 


even  approacliiiif^  its  capital  until  our  fellow  passengers  bej^an  to 
prepare  for  Icavin.cj  the  car,  and  then  I  found  we  were  alre.uly  iu 
Warsaw.  Waisaw  !  The  home  of  John  Sobieski,  who  hurled  the 
Turk  back  from  the  walls  of  Vienna  as  a  ball  thrown  from  a  bat, 
and  near  which  Kosciusko  fought  his  last  f^^ht  in  1794,  and,  bleed- 
in^.  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  country's  concjueror. 

The  capital  of  Poland  for  the  last  four  centuries,  lies  ui>on  llu- 
Vistula.  The  I'raj^ue  suburb,  upon  a  low,  flat  plain  tipon  the 
rif^ht  bank,  of  scattered  houses,  with  gardens  and  cattle-yards, 
and  railroatl  ilepots,  was  once  closi  ly  built  ami  had  a  considera- 
ble population,  but  the  bloody  Suvaroff  burnt  it  in  1794,  ami 
butchered  in  imiiscriminate  slaughter  its  15,000  to  20,000  people. 
A  fine  ami  most  solidly  sustained  bridge  connects  it  with  tlic 
main  city  lying  on  (piite  an  elevation,  which,  viewed  from  liii'^ 
suburb,  presents,  with  its  fine  palace,  citadel,  parks,  ami  many 
churches,  a  very  pleasing  appearance.  It  cannot  be  called  a 
handsome  city,  but  is  interesting,  witii  some  fine  public  buildings, 
a  large  park,  scpiatted  down  in  its  very  centre,  and  adorned  with 
fountains,  fish-])onds,  and  summer  theatres,  fine  old  trees,  mostly 
horse-chestnuts  ;  with  f.nrly  broad  streets  in  the  newer  city  linetl 
with  good  houses,  aiul  ([uaint  tall  old  houses,  three  to  {owr  cen- 
turies old,  jutting  in  and  out  upon  the  narrow,  crooketl  striets  of 
the  old  city.  These,  coupled  with  historic  associations  and  I'nlisli 
legends  running  back  far  into  the  dim  past,  make  the  place  inter- 
esting, at  least  to  an  American  in  whose  mind  patriotic  devotion, 
bold  deeds,  and  long  suffering  are  alwa\s  suggested  by  the  very 
name  of  Poland. 

W'arszawa  (Polish)  has  a  population  of  perhaps  425,000  and  a 
garrison  at  tiiis  time  amounting  to  25,000.  There  are  a  great 
many  Jews,  who,  I  learn,  are  intlustrious,  persevering,  and  provi- 
dent, and  in  large  proportion  thoroughly  orthoilox.  Their  large 
quarter  on  Saturday  was  all  shut  up,  and  the  people — men,  women, 
and  children,  —were  thorougidy  attendant  at  the  synagogues. 
One  of  these  places  of  worship  is  full  of  interest,  containing  many 
treasures  of  the  past.  The  Jews  of  Poland  number  about  I,000,- 
000.  autl  are  ilistinguishable  where\'ir  seen  by  their  marked  cast 
of  features,  long,  ungaiidy  coats,  ugl)'  top-boots,  low,  tIro()])ing 
caps,  and  solemn  faces.  I  have  neviM*  seen  in  any  country  any 
thing  even  approaching  the  solemn  visages  shown  by  the  1  lebrews 
of  Pol.ind.  They  are  not  stern  and  somewhat  contem])tU(>us,  as 
are  the  faces  of  the  Arabs,  nor  proud  and  fanatic,  as  are  those  of 
the  Turks  in  the  interior  towns  of  Asia  Minor,  nor  searching  and 
grasping  as  those  of  the  Armenians.  Their  solemnity  is  of  ,1 
melancholy  type,  ami  arises,  I  suspect,  from  ages  of  endurance, 
forbearance,  and  persecution,  and  looks  as  if  it  were  taught  in 
their  homes  and  studied  at  all  times. 

The  Jews  of  Holland  are  rather  cringing  in  manner,  but  always 
keen  in  appearance.     Those  of  Germany,  London,  and  perhaps 


i^i    I 


rilE  JEWS.     POLISH  LANGUAGE. 


Ill 


of  America,  arc  rather  self-isscrtivc,  confitlcnt,  ami  pusliin^f. 
Those  of  Poland  look  as  if  they  desired  to  escape  attention  and 
wish  simply  to  be  let  alone.*  Remember,  I  write  mere  impres- 
sions, antl  do  not  wish  to  assert.  lUit  to  nie  one  of  the  important 
factors  of  the  ])resent  world  are  the  de-icendants  of  .Xhr.diam. 
Many  of  them  1  like,  a  liking  ^'rown  out  of  close  companionship. 
They  have  their  faults,  and  ^rave  ones  ;  many  of  their  manner- 
isms are  unattractive  but  are  eradicable,  ami  therefore  to  he  over- 
looked in  an  examination  of  their  characteristics  and  a  forecast  of 
their  future.  They  measure  tlieir  ethics  too  much  by  the  rule  of 
law  ;  they  too  often  think  what  is  lawful  is  therefore  honorable  ; 
they  are  too  prone  to  stand  by  the  boml  thoui^h  it  be  wet  with 
tears  or  ^'ory  with  the  pound  of  flesh.  These  thini^s  are  weldetl 
into  their  nature  by  their  theolo<;y,  and  then  tempered  into  the 
hanlness  of  steel  by  aj^es  of  contumely  from  all  the  world.  With- 
out a  t,rovernment  of  their  own  for  near!)-  twenty  centuries,  with- 
out a  land  the)-  can  claim  for  themselves  ilurin;^  all  this  vast 
period,  they  have  hail  an  autonomy  of  territory  thorout^hly 
marked,  a  territory  bouiuled  by  the  limits  marked  on  the  earth's 
crust  by  the  rays  of  a  warminL,^  sun.  Despiseil,  they  are  self- 
reliant  ;  robbed,  they  have  accumulated  the  c.\chant,feable  {;ov- 
erniiiL;  valuables  of  the  world  ;  debarred  the  salons  of  rulers, 
kin;4s  are  their  puppets,  and  imperial  ^governments  are  their  in- 
struments, whose  st(jps  they  mani[)ulate  as  the  musician  m.mipu- 
lates  his  flute.  They  are  a  book  whose  i)at;es  the  thouL,duful  man 
should  stutly  wherever  he  can  part  the  leaves.  Who  c.in  tell 
what  the  last  pai^e,  yet  unwritten,  ma\'  reveal  ? 

The  Poles  tell  nie  with  priile  that  theirs  is  a  kiiii:;doiH,  aiu!  that 
the  Czar  rules  it  as  kiiiL,'  of  Poland  ;  that  they  elect  their  own 
mayors  and  speak  their  own  l.in^uaj^e  ;  and  \"et  one  sees  over 
every  shop  the  name  ami  business  of  the  proprietor  in  Russian  as 
well  as  Polisii,  and  all  law-court  ])roceedin<^s,  and  all  official  com- 
munications, however  small,  are  in  the  lan^uatje  of  the  ruler,  and 
that  by  law.  All  means  possible  are  bein;^  used  to  russianize  the 
country.  This  may,  perhaps,  seem  harsh  to  its  7,000,000  of  people, 
who  have  a  rich  and  copious  lani,aia<^e  of  their  own,  a  lan;4ua<^e 
which  has  had  the  sanction  of  a  thousand  years,  and  in  which 
able  universities  tau<;ht  for  centuries;  but  it  is  the  part  of  wise 
statesmanship.  A  nation  should  be  homogeneous,  and  to  be  this 
recjuires  a  common  lan^juaf^e.  One  of  the  causes  of  weakness  of 
Austria  is  the  several  lanj^ua^es  spoken  by  its  ilifferent  peoples. 
As  an  admirer  of  the  Pole  I  would  rei^n-et  much  to  see  hislan<^ua^e 
proscribed,  but  I  must  .ulmit  that  I  cannot  blanii'  Russia's  em- 
peror for  his  endeavor  to  have  his  every  subject  speak  Russian. 
A  common  lan^najrc  lulps  to  develop  common  thoui,dit.  Com- 
mon thou|.';ht  develops  liomo|^a'neity  of  character.  The  Czar 
wishes  to  rule  a  nation,  not  a  system  of  separate  and  ilistinct 
nations.     To  wipe  out  these  separate  nationalities  and  to  weld 


(:. 


>  >i 


\.  \\\ 


1  'I 


•  ■  ivi 


rr 


■11; 


' '  'I 


M 


m':^ 


'■■W 


'it 


I-' 
1    ■ 


I 


V    I 


i  '  ! 


I     I 


.    i 


'  I    ' 


'7  4 


■I   ' 


k 


378 


y1  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


them  into  one  must  burn  into  iiiauy  a  racial  nerve  and  tjive  in- 
tense agony.  We  may  regret  the  necessity  and  hate  the  doer, 
but  we  are  forced  to  aclcnowiedgc  liis  wisdom.  The  Lord  ])ul  an 
end  to  tiie  grow  tii  of  '.leaveii's  insult,  "  the  Tower  of  Babel," 
by  introducing  a  babel  of  tongues. 

While  the  Hebrews  of  Pohind  struck  me  as  so  solemn  a  people, 
the  Poles  themselves  seem  cheerful.  Not  with  the  insouciant 
cheerfulness  of  the  I'renchman,  nor  the  easy,  cheerful  manner  of 
the  Austrian,  who  seems  almost  as  much  a  seeker  after  ple.isure 
as  the  Gaul,  init  with  a  rather  bright  demeanor  anil  with  chatty, 
agreeable  manners. 

The  present  rulers  are  determined  to  hold  Warsaw.  Not  only 
have  they  made  their  language  iiecessarj'  in  the  courts,  but  all  the 
old  universities  have  been  tlestroyed.  and  the  people,  after  the 
♦rouble  of  1 830,  were  forced  to  erect,  at  their  own  cost,  a  huge 
citadel,  or  rather  fortifications,  in  the  city,  to  be  useil,  if  lU'ces- 
sary,  against  iL,  about  .ind  iuouiid  which  tiie  very  earth.  I  am 
informed,  is  mined  and  countermined,  so  that  ;in  uprising  attempt- 
ing to  carry  it  can  be  hurled  into  ruin.  Here  stati-  jirisoiurs  are 
confined,  and  snmetimes  executed.  ( )ur  intelligent  guitle.  wli'. 
lived  a  while  in  America,  pointed  out  the  prison  in  which  Niiiil- 
ists  have  been,  and  some  now  are,  conhned.  Some  of  the  prisons 
are  entirely  underground.  The  whole  thing  i--  certainly  a  dan- 
gerous neighbor  ior  a  cit\'  disposetl  to  i>c  rebellious,  '^''lis,  how- 
ever, I  was  told,  the  Warsaw  people  are  iid  longer  inclined  t  j  be. 
No  better  evidence  can  be  given  of  tile  emperor's  confideii.  •  in 
the  good  intentions  of  the  people  than  the  fact  that  wlu  n  he 
visits  Waisaw  he  drives  about  in  an  unostt  ntatmus  m. inner, 
whollj-  unattended  by  guards.  This  eert.iinly  is  wise.  .\  king 
cannot  better  win  the  good  feeling  of  ids  people  than  b\-  >howing 
his  trust  in  them.  The  groat  empi-ror  whose  reni.iins  are  yet 
mouUlering  in  (iermany,  was  fired  upon,  yet  he  showed  tlie  (ier- 
mans  that  he-  trusted  them  b.y  constantly  txiiosing  himself,  and 
the  last  drop  (jf  (lerman  biootl  was  his  to  comm.md. 

Hesiiles  the  "  Sa.xon  "  gardiiii  in  tiie  lie.irt  of  Warsaw,  tlii-re  is  a 
large  and  \'ery  i)eaiitiful  pank  close  by,  once  the  property  of 
Poniatowski,  .iiid  in  which  is  a  pretty  summer  jialaee  upon  a  fine 
slieet  of  water,  and  ,.  uni'Uie  ■ 'peii  tiiealre  ;  the  unciMred  aniplii- 
theatre  is  in  imitation  of  an  .uicient  structure,  with  a  stage  on  a 
little  island  m  an  apparent  semicircular  ruin  nf  haiidsdiiu' 
columns,  .1  sheet  of  water  thus  lying  between  the  |ierformers  and 
the  audience.  This  is  ;i  veritable  gem,  aiul  must  be  an  ex(|uisite 
place  for  a  pl.iy  on  ;i  moonlight  night.  ( )nr  ])roud  guitle  pointed 
to  it  with  entliusiasm  as  he  s.iiil  :  "  (ieii.  .Sherman,  when  here, 
could  not  help  crying  out:  '  Wh\-,  this  is  a  pirrfect  fairy  sceiii'.'  " 
I  can  re.idily  believe  the  grim.  \et  enthusia'-tic,  oU,  soldit-r  might 
have  so  spoken.  Leailing  to  this  p.irk  is  a  broail  bouhvard,  .1 
mile  long,  shadi:d  by  old  lime  trees  iind  bordered  by  jialaces  of 
noble  and  elegant  residctrces  of  rich  citizens. 


ivi'  in- 
locr, 
Mil  an 
.ibcl," 


VILLA  NOV.     SOBIESKI. 


379 


There  arc  quite  a  number  of  fine  statues  of  public  men  in 
different  parts  of  the  city,  but  tlic  one  wiiich  held  our  attention 
most  was  tlvat  of  Copernicus,  by  Tiiorwaidsen,  sittint^  in  an  easy 
attitude  a;ui  holding  the  j^lobe  in  his  hand.  The  Poles  siiould  be 
proud  of  their  warrior,  Sobieski  ;  of  their  patriot,  Kosciusko,  but 
(.ven  yet  jirouder  of  their  ^reat  philosopher  and  astronomer.  lie 
Sits  here  in  quiet  l)ut  dee])  meditation.  The  worlil  most  admires 
its  men  of  deeds  ;  but  after  all  he  does  most  whose  deeds  arc 
mighty  thou;^iits.  A  drive  of  an  iiour  throuf^h  waving  fields  of 
rye  on  the  estates  of  the  Countess  I'otoscka  brought  us  to  the 
palace  of  \'ill;inov,  her  property,  built  by  Sobieski,  his  last  home 
and  where  he  died.  It  is  a  beautiful  building  in  a  fine  garden  or 
park  of  old  trees,  pretty  lakelets,  and  wonderful  lilac  trees,  whose 
rounded  heads  were  a  simple  mass  of  bloom,  filling  tiie  air  with 
delicious  fragraiice.  I  will  iiere  remark  that  for  weeks  we  have 
been  journeying  witl'  the  spring  and  its  flowers,  and  now  the 
cherry  and  lilac  are  barely  in  full  bloom.  They  have  kept  with 
us  since  we  left  I\gypt,  and  the  acacia  or  locust,  which  had 
parliall)'  ilropped  its  flower  in  (ireece,  was  perfection  in  Con- 
stantinople and  Roumania,  well  out  in  Vienna,  is  now  hardly 
white,  and  the  air  in  orcliards  is  just  now  redolent  of  apple- 
blossoms. 

Vill.uov  possesses  fine  paintings,  some  of  them  very  valuable, 
a  good  :ollection  of  china  and  Etruscan  ware,  and  is,  in  fact,  a 
cliarnvrig  museum,  but  yet  more  interesting  are  the  rooms  occu- 
jiicd  by  the  great  Pole,  still  just  as  they  were  when  he  last 
tenanted  them,  even  the  bed  on  whicii  he  died.  Here  are  Ids  old 
clocks  and  arms,  the  garments  he  wore,  his  saddles,  horse-harness, 
.and  sw<ird,  his  rich  presents,  given  by  the  ])opc  and  others  after 
his  glorious  victories  over  the  Turks;  his  plate,  gifts  from  dis- 
tinguishetl  men,  ami  on  the  walls  hang  the  tapestry  and  paintings 
on  which  he  rested  l)is  eyi.'s  after  his  hard-fouglit  campaigns.  It 
is  saiil  he  built  the  house  through  the  labor  of  Turks  he  had  taken 
as  ])riNoners  of  w.ir.  This  ])alace  and  its  contents  are  all  the  more 
interesting  from  the  fact  tliat  the  galleries  of  Warsaw  were  robbed 
of  their  tine  royal  jiortraits,  which  were  taken  to  adorn  the  walls 
of  the  treasure-house  at  Moscow.  My  young  friends  will  not  feci 
.uiy  less  interest  in  this  beautifid  place  when  I  tell  them  that  here 
was  l.iid  ,1  ]),Lrt  of  the  scene  of  much  of  tiiat  charming  love  story, 
"Thadileus  of  Warsaw."  lioys  and  girls,  how  many  of  yi>u  have 
re. id  its  thrilling  love  passages  and  failed  to  weep  over  its  touch- 
ing pathos?  if  any,  then  you  were  not  as  I,  for  1  am  not  ashamed 
to  confess  that  1  not  only  wept  over  the  book,  but  sobbed  as  if 
my  heart  would  lireak.  and  1  was  over  12  years  old,  too,  when  I 
did  it.  llere  in  this  palace  are  pointed  out  the  rooms  in  which 
ihaddeus  played  and  loved.  lie  was  great  to  you  and  me,  girls, 
when  we  diil  not  care  a  fig  for  John,  the  warrior.  Here  is  iiis 
picture,  and  a  pretty  f.ice  was  p(>inted  out  to  us  as  hers  he  so 
ioved.     He  was  a  [irctty  boy,  and  his  hair  was  cut  like  John 


U 


fU  r  ,1 


,11 


M 


':li 


h 


!«;i 


I 


i  i  ''i 


h 


«■  1 


.  I 


If  ■■> 


!l   ' 


I   ,     ,1    I      I      ; 


/,'  ■ 


380 


.4  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


Sobicski's,  but  it  was  not  all  shaven  back  from  his  tcinpics  and 
around  over  his  cars  and  on  the  back  of  his  neck  as  the  warrior's 
was.  I  do  not  remember  the  book  well.  I  only  know  thai  it 
made  me  shed  many  a  tear,  and  1  thou^dit  Jane  I'orter  the 
paraf^on  of  historians. 

The  ride  from  the  capital  of  rulaiul  to  Moscow  was  intere-tinjj 
simply  because  it  was  in  Russia.  A  lar^'e  i)art  of  it  w.is  throu;^!! 
low,  fiat,  half-swami?  plains,  covered  with  birch  and  small  ])ines; 
then  over  low,  flat  lands,  partially  cultivated,  and  many  of  the 
fields  promisin^j  crops  whicii  we  in  Americ.i  would  scarcely  think 
worth  harvesting.  As  in  I'oland,  r\e  w.is  the  main  L,frowth  until 
durinij  tiie  latter  lialf  of  the  last  da\-,  when  sprinij  wheat  pn - 
dominated.  I  suspect  the  crops  suffer  much  fr<im  want  of  drip 
plowing;.  In  Roumania  I  wmte  that  they  l)rcak  tlie  ground  witli 
six  oxen  and  plow  deep  and  well.  Here  this  work  is  done  with 
a  sint^Ie  horse,  and  the  plow  does  not  enter  the  ^oil  over  two 
inches.  They  use  a  cpieer.  old-fashioned  t(iol  with  two  IIljIu 
shares,  anil  the  horse  draws  between  a  pair  of  shafts  which  lie  on 
a  level  ;  the  beam,  of  wiiich  the  plowshare  makes  the  point — i.r 
rather  the  iwo  beams  lyiny  close  together-are  from  four  to  five 
feet  hiL,Mi,  and  morticed  into  the  'Toss-bar  at  the  rear  of  the 
shafts.  It  will  not  make  our  i'ii;lit-I.  >ur  people  love  tills  country 
when  I  tell  them  I  saw  people  workin_^  in  the  fiiKls  a  little  after 
four  in  the  morning  and  until  nine  o'clock  in  il'.e  cvenin-.^.  Women 
seem  to  do  the  bidk  of  the  farm  woik,  and  slurd\-,  li,u(l\-lookini^ 
women  they  are.  They  wear  coarse  cic.'thes  and  live  on  rye  bread. 
In  Moscow  I  have  seen  street  pavers,  nun  and  women,  stop  foi 
their  breakfast,  which  was  simple  rye  bread  washec'  dowi.  with 
water.  From  light  to  ilark  is  the  term  of  a  day's  lai;or,  with  poor 
pay  ami  poor  food.  M)-  laborini,'  friends  at  homo,  gi\"e  warm 
thanks  to  the  (liver  of  all  good  that  j'our  lots  are  cast  in  a  l.md 
of  freedom,  where  men  work,  not  fight  ;  where  women  are  rosy 
companions,  and  not  mere  beasts  of  burden  ;  where  );ai  can  do  a 
fair  (.lay's  work  and  get  a  fair  day's  w.ige  ;  where  yoar  children 
can  read  and  write,  and  .are  not  comi)elleil  to  watch  flocks  all  da\ 
in  the  fieKls,  .and  i)e  const. mtly  the  coinpanirns  of  slieep  and  <if 
swine  ;  where,  it'  you  are  iiulustrious,  sober,  and  economic. d,  ym 
can,  if  in  health,  alwaj's  1  i)'  by  enough  to  keep  the  U(jlf  aw.i\-  in 
)"our  okl  ;ige. 

I'rom  Minsk-  to  Moscow  wt;  were  continuously  ne.ir  the  line  of 
m.irch  of  the  iMeiich  in  lSl2,  .ind  of  their  subsequent  dis.istnm- 
retreat  ;  throujyh  Kresnoe,  where  Ney  left  26,cxx:)  |)risoners  and 
nearly  all  of  his  guns  and  his  v.ist  train  of  stores;  through 
Smolensk,  f.unous  in  niaiij'  an  old  w.ir,  and  where  the  example 
was  set,  in  I.SiJ,  f^ir  Moscow  to  folhnv,  in  fi;,diting  the  ine-istible 
invading  army  with  fire.  Here  the  destruction  of  tlu'  I-'reiuli 
was  so  great  when  on  their  retreat,  that  the  then  successful 
Russians  burned  the  dead  in  vast  trenches  over  a  third  of  a  mile  in 


' 


"FRENCH  RETREAT. 


3"^' 


loneth  ;  and  through  Borodino,  where  Ncy  was  created  "  I'rincc 
of  Moscow"  for  his  gallantry,  and  where,  after  slaughter  of  fifty 
odd  thousand  men  and  30,000  horses,  the  road  was  laid  open  for 
the  advancing  army  to  enter  Moscow. 

Tliank  God,  Americans  do  not  have  to  immolate  themselves  for 
the  <^Iory  of  kings.  Our  rukrs  may  often  be  foolish,  and  perhaps 
sometimes  untrue  to  their  trusts,  and  many  laws  may  be  unwise, 
but  we  do  not  have  to  appeal  to  the  cannon  to  repeal  the  laws,  or 
to  bombs  to  unseat  the  rulers.  We  have  the  freeman's  weapon  to 
ri<vht  all  evils — an  untrammelled  ballot. 


'111 


'.  M 


'j; 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

MOSCOW— T  IE    RUSS0-(;RKI;K    ClIUKlMl— DKVOTION    of   THK    I>I'.<V 
PLE— RUSSIAN   TEA— KKSTAURANTS— rilK    KREMLIN- 
HELLS— PALACES. 


i 


,1^ 


Moscow,  Jute  12,  1888. 

I  INTENDED  to  sticV  as  lorifj  as  possible  to  old  stylo  of  dates 
because  it  was  so  at;rccauli'  to  feci  liiat  I  was  still  in  the  spring- 
time of  my  life,  and  had  not  yet  entered  the  summer  of  ripe  age. 
You  see,  however,  that  I  have  already  jumped  into  June.  This  is 
from  sheer  indignation  and  disgust.  A  long  while  ago,  wiien 
Peter  the  Great  was  making  boots  and  Iicwiiig  ship  timbers — it 
is,  by  the  way,  to  be  hoped  he  wielded  the  adze  better  than  he 
did  the  awl,  for  the  boots  shown  in  the  treasury  made  by  his 
hands  for  himself,  are  rough  specimens  of  the  cobbler's  art, — at 
that  day  there  lived  in  Russia  an  astronomer  under  him  named 
Hruce,  who  made  weather  calculations  for  centuries  to  come. 
These  prophecies  are  still  noted  ilown  in  the  almanacs,  lie  fore- 
told that  May  of  this  year  (188S)  would  be  very  cold.  He  was 
right.  I  am  writing  in  my  overcoat,  and  have  not  been  able  to 
go  without  one  since  we  have  been  here.  Hruce  was  so  wise  that 
Peter  got  alarmed,  thinking  him  a  sorcerer,  and  ordered  him  to 
depart  the  country.  Heing  asked  whither,  tlie  autocrat  said  any- 
where, so  he  got  away;  but  moved  by  curiosity,  ordered  men  to 
watch  tlic  twelve  roads  leaving  the  city.  Imagine  the  feelings  of 
superstitious  '.'eter  when  the  reports  came  in  that  Ikucc  was  seen 
at  the  self-same  hour  some  vcrsts  from  the  city  fleeing  on  each  of 
the  twelve  different  roads!  It  is  a  i)ity  the  sorcerer  had  not  been 
knocked  on  the  head  before  he  fi.ved  May,  1888,  as  a  very  cold 
inonth,  or  that  Peter  had  changed  the  style,  for  then  this  would 
be  June  1 2th,  with  warm,  genial  weather. 

The  hotel  we  arc  in,  the  Slavianski  Bazaar,  recalls  another 
legend  of  superstition  no  the  part  of  the  people  of  olden  (la\-s.  In 
1553  t!ic  first  printing-office  in  Russia  was  built,  and  yet  stands 
in  a  rear  court  of  this  house.  The  original  starter  of  the  thing 
was  a  victim  of  his  knowledge,  for  he  was  threatened  with  death 
as  a  nccron">anLer,  and  probably  was  maltreated  by  the  mob.  TIic 
business,  however,  got  Mito  the  hands  of  the  government,  and  has 
been  run  by  it  ever  since.  The  little  old  house,  yet  preserved 
with  great  care,  became  the  nuclcui  of  a  large  establishment  un- 

•<8a 


Kil 


THE  RUSSO-GREEK  CHURCH. 


383 


der  the  control  of  tlic  church,  which  prints  all  of  the  books, 
musical  as  well  as  others,  for  not  only  the  Russian  establishment, 
but  for  the  Greek  church  in  other  countries.  It  is  under  the  con- 
trol of  able  directors,  who  employ  learned  men,  and  thus  give  its 
books  authority  with  all  followers  of  the  Eastern  Ciiurch.  It  is 
very  rich  ;  owns  this  \iv^  hotel,  and  much  other  valuable  property. 
The  man.TTcrs  wished  to  have  here  not  only  a  hotel,  but  a  concert- 
hall,  theatre,  and  mercantile  bazaar,  all  under  one  roof.  The 
bazaar  did  not  succeed.  It  is  now  a  beautiful  hall,  larj^c  and  finely 
vaulted,  and  is  the  restaurant  or  dininj^-room  of  tlie  hotel. 

'llie  mana<:;er  of  the  printinf;-housc  yesterday  k'ndiy  explained 
to  us  many  things  in  connection  with  the  Greek  or  Russian 
church  not  before  understood  by  us,  and  showed  us  some  very 
rare  old  works,  and  exquisitely  illumined  music-books — which, 
however,  being  in  Hebrew,  Greek,  or  Russian,  I  could  only  ad- 
mire from  the  outside.  The  Greek  church  here  acknowledges  no 
head  other  than  the  conclave  or  f>ynod  of  the  archbishops,  who  arc 
held  to  be  the  successors  of  the  t've!\e  apostles,  and  all  being  co- 
equal  one  with  another.  The  emperor  is  simply  tlie  jiolitical  head 
of  the  Russian  ciuirch.  The  archbishops,  bishops,  and  the  people 
elect  the  archbishops  when  a  vacancy  occurs  ;  the  elected's  name 
is  then  jiresLnted  to  the  emperor  for  his  consent,  which,  when 
once  given,  r<.'movcs  all  right  of  further  contrf)!  from  the  czar. 

The  emperor  is  very  earnest  in  his  observance  of  the  rites  of 
the  church,  and  in  religious  matters  pays  great  respect  to  the 
prejudices  and  religious  opinions  of  the  pcojilc.  At  one  of  the 
gates  of  the  "  Kitai-gorod,"  or  citadel,  is  a  little  chapel  or  shrine 
dedicated  to  the  "  Iberian  motiierof  God,"  in  which  the  image  of 
the  Virgin  is  beautifully  jewelled,  and  brings  about  many  miracles. 
Here  the  emjieror  dismounts  when  he  visits  Moscow,  and  worships 
in  the  presence  of  the  image  before  entering  the  Kremlin.  From 
morning  till  night  there  is  a  stream  of  people  going  into  and 
coming  from  the  chapel,  and  toward  evening  this  becomes  a 
column.  People  of  all  ages  and  all  degrees,  the  wealthy  and  the 
beggar,  each  buys  one  or  more  candles  from  the  man  selling  them 
just  within  the  door,  and  places  them  lighted  near  the  altar.  The 
revenues  thus  otjtained  are  said  to  be  very  large.  No  one  passes 
under  the  gate  without  lifting  his  hat  and  crossing  himself  at  least 
three  times.  The  gate  is  a  great  thoroughfare,  and  the  lifting  of 
hats  by  gentlemen  and  laborers,  teamsters  and  drivers,  people  in 
carriages,  and  people  afoot,  all  crossing  themselves  so  earnestly, 
and  many  dropping  on  their  knees,  presents  ;i  curious  spectacle. 

One  day  we  saw  two  drunken  men,  with  locked  arms,  stagger- 
ing along  the  broad  square,  nearly  lOO  yards  from  the  chapel. 
When  in  front  of  it,  down  they  went  to  their  knees.  When  they 
attempted  to  rise,  one  could  not  succeed  until  helped  up  by  a 
passer-by.  The  shrines  and  images  along  the  streets  arc  innum- 
erable.    Many  kneel  before  them,  and  the  great  majority  cross 


n^. 


»!      • 


:'••  ^' 


''li 


ifH 


(^'  >[ 


V.  J 


0/f;^ 


384 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


tlicmsclvcs.  Wc  took  a  loiifj  ride  on  the  top  of  a  street-car.  The 
passengers  on  tliis  dock  sit  with  tlicir  bacKs  to  each  other  on  a 
long  seat  rvmnin^j  from  front  to  rear.  V>y  my  side  were  two  rouj^lily- 
drcssed  laborers.  Tliey  removed  their  hats  and  crossed  them- 
selves whenever  passing  the  churches  and  shrines.  We  must  have 
passed,  in  tlie  ride,  over  20  on  the  side  we  were  facing.  Some 
merchants  were  on  the  other  side  ;  they  did  the  same  when  op- 
posite  a  holy  place  on  their  side  of  the  street.  I  have  followed 
people  to  see  if  they  would  not  pass  some  shrine  unnoticed.  A 
very  few  do,  but  poor  women  seem  never  to  omit  the  ceremony. 
At  a  church  service  the  crossing  and  genuflections  are  as  numer- 
ous and  as  continually  kept  up  as  are  the  bowings  and  prostrations 
at  a  Constantinople  mosque  of  dancing  dervishes.  Here,  too, 
many  of  the  worshippers  when  kneeling  bend  the  forehead  down 
to  the  floor. 

Each  church  wc  have  visited  has  one  or  more  special  "  Ikons" 
(holy  images).  People  are  alwaj's  seen  before  them,  and  all  kiss 
the  image  before  leaving.  I  asked  our  guide  how  often  he 
thought  these  people  crossed  themselves  each  day.  He  replied 
that  he  did  not  doubt  some  who  arc  much  on  the  street  do  so 
more  than  100  times  each  day  of  the  year.  People  hurry  past  a 
church  on  a  railroad  train,  and  lift  their  hats  and  cross  themselves. 
I  think,  from  what  I  saw,  that  this  is  only  done  when  an  image  is 
in  view.  But  these  are  on  the  front  of  most  churches.  So  far  I 
have  not  seen  a  single  sculpt'ired  effigy  of  Christ  nailed  to  the 
cross.  It  is  evident  that  the  Greek  church  uses  principally  the 
painted  images,  in  preference  to  the  carved  ones.  I  was  told  that 
this  is  considered  the  proper  thing,  in  contradistinction  to  the 
carved  effigies  of  the  Latin  church.  It  is  said  that  the  o;)position 
to  the  church  of  Rome  here  is  greater  than  that  felt  for  the 
Protestants.  I  have  never  seen  in  any  country  among  the  masses 
greater  evidences  of  religious  devotion,  at  least  in  its  outward 
forms,  than  arc  shown  in  Moscow.  The  Mohammedan  of  Cairo 
is  not  more  so.  This  is  considered  one  of  the  holy  cities  of  the 
Russo-Greek  church,  Kicff  alone  ranking  as  high.  Here  every  ap- 
peal possible  is  made  to  the  religious  heart.  There  arc  360 
churches,  many  old,  and  possessing  the  most  sacred  relics — one  of 
the  nails  which  'fastened  Christ  to  the  cross,  locks  of  his  hair,  a 
part  of  the  true  cross,  bodies  of  saints  incased  in  gilded  shrines, 
pictures  of  the  Saviour  and  of  the  Virgin,  covered  with  gold  and 
decked  with  jewels.  Avoiding  as  they  do  carved  images,  the 
pictures  which  adorn  the  walls  are  very  often  covered  over  with 
garments  of  gilded  silver,  the  garments  taking  the  form  of  the 
body  in  raised  relief,  and  sho\,'ng  the  face  of  the  painted  picture 
with  here  a  hand  and  perhaps  there  a  foot.  The  interior  walls  of 
many  of  the  churches  are  almost  covered  with  pictures  of  life-size. 
These  being  clad  in  garments  of  gold  in  high  relief  make  the  walls 
look  as  if  built  of  gold,  and  give  the  interiors  of  such  churches  a 
massive  richness  vicing  with  any  thing  seen  in  Oriental  lands. 


f 


THE  DEVOTION  Of  THE  P  EOT  I.E. 


}fil 


"  Mothers  of  God,"  painted  in  no  mean  manner,  arc  on  the 
front  of  nearly  all  churches,  and  little  chapels  and  shrines,  with 
the  Virfjin  and  Child,  are  on  the  sides  of  the  streets  in  vast  num- 
bers. The  Child  is  rarely  represented  as  a  baby,  but  is  usually 
apparently  from  6  to  12  years  old,  and  with  the  thou^Mitful  ex- 
pression of  even  a  ijreater  at^e,  and  yet  it  sits  in  its  mother's  lap. 
l>anips  are  suspended  before  all  of  these  imajj;es,  and  are  lighted 
lonij  before  dark.  These  things  all  ap[)eal  to  the  ignorant  and  to 
the  devotional,  and  keeps  constantly  alive  a  feeling  of  religious 
fervor.  All  churches  have  domes  :  the  better  ones  five — one  large 
and  four  smaller  ones  about  it.  Many  of  these  are  gilded,  and 
glisten  under  the  rays  of  the  sun.  Rising  high  over  every  dome 
is  a  beautiful  Greek  cross  with  crescent  below — appealing  not 
only  to  religion  through  the  symbol  of  Christ's  sufferings,  but 
also  through  the  debasetl  crescent  to  the  national  hatreil  of  the 
Turk  and  of  Isl.imism.  I  am  told,  however,  this  was  not  the  in- 
tention, but  simjjly  to  represent  the  idea  of  the  growth  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  cross.  Ikit  some  at  least  of  the  common  people 
understand  it  as  showing  the  domination  of  the  Christian  cross 
over  the  crescent  of  Islam. 

Many  believe  that  the  Russian  aims  at  a  spread  of  his  govern- 
ment over  the  continent.  If  he  can  keep  alive  in  his  soldiers  a 
desire  to  make  his  religion  universal  he  will  succeed  in  making 
himself  almost  invincible.  It  was  the  crescent  at  the  heatl  of  his 
columns  which  enabled  Timour  to  win  his  enormous  victories. 
Men  can  concjuer  or  die  when  taught  that  death  in  battle  opens 
the  gates  of  Paradise.  The  C/ar  of  Russia  has  erected  the  cross. 
Who  knows  how  far  it  may  leail  him  ?  On  one  of  the  boulevards 
of  Moscow  a  large  pyramidal  monument  was  lately  erected  ;  on 
its  four  sides,  in  bokl  alto  relievo,  are  lifi -sized  representations  in 
bronze  of  episodes  of  the  late  war  with  Turkey,  One  represents 
a  Bulgarian  mother  and  child  being  cut  down  by  a  Turk;  the 
next  shows  a  Russian  soldier  slaying  the  Mohammedan  and  sav- 
ing the  woman.  Then  follows  one  with  a  priest  pointing  the 
wounded  soldier  to  a  higher  land.  .Such  things  must  feeil  in  the 
hearts  of  the  people  a  desire  to  drive  Islamism  from  .Stamboul. 
The  rushing  (loods  of  this  great  land  flow  not  more  eagerly 
toward  the  Hlack  Sea  than  do  the  yearnings  of  the  Russian  toward 
the  Hosplu)rus. 

Many  of  the  churches  here  are  fine,  some  very  interesting,  anil 
one  is  simply  magnificent.  This  is  the  Temple  of  the  .Saviour, 
the  metropolitan  church  of  the  Moscow  archbishopric.  It  is 
large,  holds  7,000  people,  and  cost  §10,000,000.  It  is  built  in  the 
form  of  an  equal-armed  Greek  cross,  of  whitish  stone,  on  a  base 
of  dark  granite  highly  polished.  The  outer  walls  have,  in  high 
relief,  in  heroic  size,  representations  of  Biblical  stories,  and  above 
is  a  central  grand  dome,  with  four  others,  over  the  arms  of  the 
cross.     These  domes  are  of  brilliantiygilded  copper.     The  grand 


m 


t 


I  .  •  ''IS  ."■ 


:'^.-k 


]!• 


ill 


■ ,     '*    i 


i 


Iti  :  f 


lil 


\ , 


'^! 


;  r 


386 


A  RACK  WITH  TJIK  SUN. 


i, 


,i  / 


portico,  with  its  36  columns,  is  very  imposing.  Tiic  interior  walls 
have  bases  of  a  curious  black  marble,  with  ^'listening  veins  .md 
wonderfully  polished,  from  Finland  ;  above  this  base  arc  the 
usual  rows  of  pictures  in  gold  garments,  raised  in  relief,  and  above 
them,  in  rows  one  over  the  other,  are  life-sized  pictures  of  IJibli- 
cal  and  other  saints,  finely  executed,  covering  the  walls  up  to  the 
lofty  galleiies,  which  run  entirely  around  the  etlifice.  These  gal- 
leries have  many  pictures  of  great  size  and  in  high  art,  depicting 
stories  in  the  lives  of  Russian  saints.  The  architecture  througli- 
out  is  very  fine,  and  the  paintings  are  all  l)eautiful,  and,  to  nu, 
seem  masterly  works.  One  thing,  and  only  one,  helps  to  mar  the 
whole.  In  the  vault  of  the  majestic  dome,  which  is  go  feet  in 
diameter,  is  a  picture  of  God  with  the  child  Christ  on  his  lap.  and 
the  Holy  Ghost  as  a  dove  on  his  breast.  Tin's  picture  is  a  grand 
one  ;  but  it  always  shocks  me  to  see  an  attempt  to  represent  tlir 
might\',  unknown,  and  unknowable  Goil  as  a  man — as  a  figured 
being.  Human  ken  cannot  fathom  the  dimensions  of  Him  who 
holds  countless  worlds  in  the  hollow  of  1  lis  hand  ;  human  thouglu 
cannot  conceive  the  form  of  Him  who  created  and  set  in  motiDii 
ten  thousand  thousand  suns,  on  whose  rounded  sides  this  world 
of  ours  in  flames  would  scarcch'  be  a  flashing  spark  ;  set  them  in 
motion  so  true  and  perfect  that  no  mathematical  science  can  cal- 
culate the  far-off  ;eon  when  the  first  vibration  will  occur  in  tluir 
onward  roll  !  Human  imagination  camiot  even  dream  of  the 
brightness  of  His  eye,  which  can  look  into  a  blazing  sun  and 
cause  the  burning  flame  to  ilim  into  tlarkness.  Ah,  no  I  God  i^; 
unknown  and  unknowable — never  conceived  and  inconceivable. 
No  created  thing  can  imagine  what  and  how  He  is,  whose  thought 
created  the  vastness  of  space,  and  who,  by  His  will,  filled  it  with 
the  boundless  universe!  Next  to  St.  Sophia,  and,  perhaps,  St. 
Paul,  I  remember  no  church  which  has  so  impressed  me  as  this 
Temple  of  the  Saviour.  Stamling  within  it  ;ind  looking  up  into 
its  dome,  over  300  feet  high,  I  was  warmed  as  I  could  be  in  no 
Gothic  church,  though  its  columns  and  pillars  were  as  the  trees 
of  the  forest.  I  do  not  like  the  profusion  of  gilt  in  the  Greek 
church,  but,  in  the  form  adopted,  it  has  been  more  successful 
than  the  church  of  the  West. 

About  an  hour's  drive  from  the  citv'  is  the  only  considerable 
elevation  in  its  neighborhood  .Sparrow  Hill,  on  the  banks  of  the 
river.  It  is  only  2<X)  or  300  fett  high,  but  affords  a  ver\-  fine 
view  of  the  town  and  its  domes,  the  Kremlin  and  its  crenulateil 
walls  and  palaces.  It  was  from  this  s])ot  that  the  victorimis 
Napoleon  looked  for  the  first  time  upon  the  doomed  city  he  h,ul 
so  long  yearned  to  enter,  and  which  proved  his  ruin.  The  I'"rench 
soldiers,  as  they  climbed  from  behind  up  to  the  top  of  this  hill. 
are  .said,  one  after  anotlier,  to  have  shouted  "  Moscow  !  "  I'oor 
fellows!  Little  dreamed  they  of  the  burning  hand  which  was  to 
grasp  theirs  in  welcome,  or  of  the  cold  winding  sheet  which  was 


riCTl  RESQ  VE  .  MO  Si  OH' 


3«7 


ior  walls 

L'illS    .111(1 

arc  the 
k1  above 
f.f  liibli- 
ip  to  the 
liL'sc  ^al- 
Icpictiiit^ 
thiDu^h- 
1,  to  nif, 
(  mar  the 

10  feet  in 
s  lap,  and 
s  a  j^raiul 

SLMlt     tlU' 

a  fi'^niiicl 
Mini  will) 
\  tluni;;ht 

11  nioiiim 
his  worUi 
t  thcin  in 
:c  can  cal- 
ir  in  thiir 
ni   of   the 

sun  and 
()  I  God  is 
nccivahle. 
;c  tlioui;ht 
cd  it  with 
:rhai)S,  St. 
lie  as  this 
\v^  up  into 
1  i)e  in  no 
s  the  trees 
the  (iieek 
successful 

)iisitlerahle 
inks  (»f  the 
I  very  fuu' 
creiiul  ited 

victorious 
:ity  he  had 
'he  iM-eiich 
af  this  hill, 
w  !  "  I'oor 
liich  was  to 

which  was 


so  soon  to  enfold  so  many  of  their  comrades.  A  map  of  this  city 
looks  so  like  that  of  Vienna  that  I  mistook  it  the  first  time  I  saw 
one  in  a  window.  The  river  runs  througli  it  much  as  the  canal 
does  in  the  other,  and  the  streets  of  the  town,  accomniodatin}^ 
themselves  to  the  form  of  the  Kremlin  and  the  Katai-Gorod,  Ijotli 
walled  in,  assume  a  somewhat  circling;  form,  as  does  the  KiiiL; 
Strassc.  There  are  very  few  streets  which  are  straight  for  any 
considerable  distance.  There  is  probably  no  city  in  Christendom 
laid  out  with  more  absolute  irregularit\-  than  Mosccnv.  Looking 
at  the  map  one  could  believe  this  irregularity  was  studied. 
Streets  bend  and  wind  in  every  direction,  with  no  .ippareiit  inir- 
pose,  except  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  central  old  walled  town 
should  reach  the  counlr)-  in  every  direction.  Streets  leatl  from 
the  Kremlin,  or  centre,  for  this  purpose  to  the  outskirts  in  all 
cjuartcrs,  but  with  no  attem])t  to  preserve  direct  lines.  Tliey 
bend  and  wind  and  run  sometimes  into  each  other,  ami  are  of  no 
fixed  w  idtli.  I  lere  they  arc  narrow,  then  tliej-  double  their  width, 
now  they  are  lost  in  open  sp.ices  of  irregular  forms  into  which 
two  or  more  streets  may  debouch.  Cutting  these  country-seek- 
ing roads  is  a  system  of  streets  attempting  to  preserve  to  some 
extent  the  form  of  the  Kremlin  and  Katai-(jorod,  or  central-walled 
ancient  city,  and  seeking  to  make  themselves  a  system  somewhat 
circular  and-  concentric.  One  of  these  is  the  grand  boulevard 
occu|)yiiig  the  locatit)n  of  an  f)l(l  fortification.  This  is  of  various 
widths — now  lOO  feet,  and  then  spreading  to  two,  three,  or  even 
more  hundred,  and  encloses  a  somewhat  circular  space,  not  (piitc 
three  miles  in  diameter.  In  the  centre  of  this  s])ace,  averaging  a 
tr.ict  e(|u.il  to  a  mile  S(|uare,  is  the  irregularly-formed  walled  old 
town,  comprising  the  Kremlin  and  Katai-Gorod.  Just  outside  of 
tluii  w.dls  is  another  boulevard  system,  occupying  the  once  old 
niii.it.  Between  these  two  boulevards  is  a  faint  attempt  to  pre- 
.'f  rve  a  somewhat  circular  concentric  s\-stem  of  streets.  Outside 
ti.e  outer  boulevard  there  seems  to  be  no  sort  of  system.  The 
boulevards  are  well  planted  with  trees,  and  have  well-kept  proiiu  n- 
ades  in  the  centre,  the  tlrivew.ty  being  on  the  outer  sides. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  tli.it  Moscow  possesses  much  to  make  it 
pretty.  The  old  Kremlin,  famous  in  history  during  several 
centuries,    with    its    erenulated    walls,    its    p.ilaces,    ami    cpi.tint 


churcht 


es,  all  perched  upon  an  elev.ition  sufficient  to  make  them 
l.uul-marks  ;  the  Katai-Gorod.  or  walled  citadel,  with  bciuling,  tor- 
tuous streets,  and  old  and  yet  hanilsome  hou.ses ;  the  (jueerly 
laid-out,  irregular  city  outside,  with  gardens  and  well-planted 
boulevanls — these  things  give  much  that  is  nccessarj-  for  the 
pictures(jue.  ^'et  I  am  compelled  to  admit  that  a  week's  stay 
iiere  did  not,  to  me,  make  it  interesting.  The  Kremlin  and  its 
contents,  and  some  of  the  churches  arc  interesting,  but  they  arc 
rather  lions  in  the  city.  The  city  itself  lacks  something  to  warm 
up  the  traveller.     Perhaps  this  has  been   only  for  us,  and  may 


.  1  . .  V 

hi 


» .      I 


I  .' 


i 

ill!  1,1 


jss 


A  A'ACK  WITH  THE  SIW. 


:.  'f    I 


bu  sonunvhat  owiiij;  to  tlic  contimiid  cold,  drizzly,  cl.iinp  weather. 
This  may  have  kept  the  people  more  within  ;  at  Ic.ist,  when  on 
the  streets,  within  themselves.  Tiiey  all  have  snch  an  air  of 
apathy,  or  of  selfish  indifference;  each  seems  listless,  or  if  in 
earnest  then  bent  on  somethinij  belon^in^'  only  to  himself. 

People  are  crowdipg  the  narrow  sidewalks,  forcinj^  one  to  j;et 
on  the  ro.idw.iy,  and  then  to  dod^'e  off  to  keep  from  beinj,'  run 
over  l)y  the  tlrojkies,  wliich  rattle,  as  fast  as  a  trot  will  cany 
them,  over  the  coi)bIe-paved  streets.  Porters  are  luirr)'in|^'  aloni^^  ; 
women  in  queer  peasant  ^.irbs,  with  bundles  over  their  back^, 
and  basket-sandals  on  their  feet,  are  trudi^in^  on  their  pilijrimai^fc 
from  church  to  church,  crossin^^  themselves  ;uid  kneelinj^  at  every 
little  chapel,  .md  before  ever)-  imap;e.  They  look  tired  and 
wearj-.  for  they  are  perhaps  from  ver)'  distant  provinces,  and  are 
m,d<in;^  a  pilijrima^e  which  will  take  in  Kiev — 700  or  Soo  miles 
awa\-.  There  are  men  in  routjh  coats  ilozini;  in  tloorways,  .iiid 
drojky  drivers,  with  tlowin;^  skirts  reachini^^  to  their  ankles, 
.isleep  in  the  vehicles,  or  im])ortunin|4-  jou  to  ride.  There  is  ,ill 
of  this,  yet  there  is  nothing  which  1  c.ui  call  street  life,  which 
makes  other  cities  of  fewer  people  interestin;^. 

The  ciowils  are  on  the  street,  but  e\'er)'  one  is  wrapped  up  in 
a  sort  of  self-hidin;T  reserve.  I  love  to  watch  new  people.  I 
visit  cities  more  to  h>ok  at  and  into  their  peo[)li'  th.ui  at  ami  into 
their  editlces  ,ind  shows.  I  never  wearied  when  w.dkin^  the 
streets  of  London,  or  Paris,  or  Herlin,  or  \'ienna,  an<.l  ab'ive 
all,  of  the  f.ir-uff  cities  of  the  Orient,  liut  here  there  seem-  Id 
be  nothing  offered  by  the  people  to  make  them  attr.ictive.  The 
better  cl.isses  are  polite  ;uul  courteous.  The  m.isses,  howew  r, 
aie  not  lookin^^  about  as  if  read)'  to  be  amused.  Tin.)'  ha\e 
something  to  do,  and  nothing  else  enters  their  brain.  Tin -.e 
are  the  impressions  1  recei\'ed.  I  have  j^one  into  reslaur.mls  at 
tile  two  o'clock  hour  of  the  principal  meal,  ilere  the  same  air 
is  worn.  .\  well-patronizeil  cafe  or  restaurant  in  most  cities  pre- 
sents an  epitome  of  life,  anil  one  can  spend  hours  in  them  simply 
as  a  looker-on.  \'esterday,  ne.xt  to  our  table,  three  young  ni'  n 
sat  down,  having  first  looked  over  the  counter  on  which  comestibles 
are  spreail.  A  small  bottle  with  a  sort  of  schnapps  -  and  wiiu'- 
glasses,  a  plate  of  dark  breail,  aiul  another  of  radishes  and  but- 
ter, with  a  sm.ill  dish  of  smoking-hot  veal,  weri-  placed  before 
them.  The)-  ate  some  railishes  and  a  mouthful  of  \eal.  then 
filling  their  gl.isses  tii)ped  tlu'in  and,  opening  tiieir  mouths  wide, 
emptied  the  w  hite  liquor  down  their  throats  at  a  gulp.  TIk  \- 
then  talked  .md  eat  more  r.uli^lies,  and  ;i  few  more  moulhfuK  ^A 
veal,  and  th.en  poureil  down  each  .'inother  gl.issful,  throwing  tlu  ir 
heads  back  as  if  to  enable  the  stuff  to  reach  the  right  pi. ice  at 
once.  They  then  lit  cigarettes.  Hy  this  time  the)-  li.ui  l)ec(juic 
voluble,  and  after  the  third  gla.ss,  which  emptied  the  bottle,  they 
commenced  to  talk  German  as  if  to   prevent  others  from  uniler- 


weather. 

iVlieil    nit 

n   air  uf 
or  if  in 
If. 

e  ti)  ;4i't 
einj,'  run 

ill  cany 
^  aloni;  ; 
.'ir  backs, 
il;^rinia;.;c 

at  evrry 
tired  and 
i,  and  AW 
Soo  miles 
vays,  .md 
r  ankUs, 
lere  is  all 
ife,  \\liit.li 

)ed  uji   in 
icople.      1 

ami  intd 
lkin<;  the 
nil  .d)'ive 
:  se-en".^  to 
ivc.     'I'lie 

liowevrr, 
"he\-  have 
1.  ''Idu-e 
iuirants  at 
:  same  air 
cities  pii- 
em  simply 
i)un;4  ni  n 
omi'stibles 
-and  wine- 
's ami  l)ut- 
:ed  IxfiMf 
veal,  ihrn 
iUths  widi', 
dp.  'I'luy 
lulhful-  'if 
iwinj^  lilt  ir 
it  jjlaee  at 
id  become 
•ottle.  they 
rom  uiuIlt- 


A7-;.V 7.1  (  'A'.I.V 7'.V.     A'r.S.Sf.'LV   TI-.A. 


.?S9 


standing  them.  A  .second  bottle  was  broufjht.  and  a  b^wl  of 
soup,  anil  another  dish  or  two  of  nuat.  They  took  a  few  month- 
fuls,  anil  droppetl  anotlur  glassful  of  vodky  or  schnapps  down 
into  their  waistbands.  'Ihe  topic  of  conversation  became  very 
sad.  for  one  of  them  died  tears,  which  pouiid  down  his  cheek, 
the  other  two  gi\  inj.;  him  warm  s\inpath\-.  '1  <y  were  all  young. 
]\rhaps  it  was  a  tale  of  blighted  love.  We  left  them  before  the 
KLC'iul  bottle  was  emptied,  and  before  thej-  had  eaten  much  of 
their  dinner.  Their  conversation  h.ul  bec'ine  low-toned  and  -.id. 
The  cuisine  in  our  hotel,  and  in  good  restaurants,  is  very  fine, 
and  comfortably  good  in  the  cheaper  houses  we  have  tried. 
Nowhere  is  living  dear.  Tea.  most  delicious,  with  nice  bnad 
and  enough  for  two,  cost  So  kopecks,  .ind  a  trink-gelt  to  the 
waiter  of  say  tcn--in  all  about  40  cents.  Chocoj.iti.',  two  tumblers 
full,  and  bread  (>r  c.ike  for  two,  same  price.  .\  good  dinner  of 
.soup,  two  kinds  of  meat  and  veget.d)les,  with  a  coinpoti-  and 
glass  of  beer,  costs  in  the  best  places,  for  two,  about  $1.10 
of  our  money.  Thi>  same  at  a  cheap,  respectable  place,  but  not 
so  well  prepare  d,  yet  good  enough,  about  35  cents  a  person,  of 
our  moiie)-.  We  m.ike  it  a  rule  to  try  all  kind  of  pi. ices  where 
food  is  clean  and  respectable.  Rus->i.in  tea  ,  very  fine.  It  is 
.served  thii> :  A  te.i-pot  large  enough  to  hold  one  large  cup  full, 
is  jjlaced  before  two  persons,  with  another  large  pot  of  boiling 
water.  We  h.ilf  fill  our  cups  from  the  tea-pot.  and  fill  up  ith 
water,  and  if  desired  with  cream  or  with  ndlk,  .it  the  same  lime 
filling  the  tea-pot  with  hot  water.  In  this  wa\-  we  cm  have  as 
much  as  we  can  possibly  ikdre.  I  noticed  Russi.ms  drinking 
and  refilling  until  the  ilecoction  coming  from  the  pot  was  b.in  ly 
colored.  We.  however,  refill  nnly  once,  getting  tiuis  two  large 
cups  of  delicious  te.i.  The  third  cup  is  strong  enough  for  tabic 
use.  l'"or  each  portion  1:?  lumps  of  sugar  are  ftirnishetl,  and 
bread  enough  for  a  f.iir  b'.e.ikfast.  I  noliceil  Rus-i.ms  putting 
the  sugar  in  their  mouths  and  supping  the  tea  through  it.  or  i  it- 
ing  It  after  swallowing  ;ome  tea.  This,  however,  w;is  wlu  n  tea  is 
taken  simply  as  a    beverage,  and   with   a  slice  of  lemon.     One 


di< 
A 


;us 

'I.ISS 


tin^  habit  is  common  hen-  in  the  better  class  of  restaur.mts. 


of  w.iter  is  sir\'e( 


the   continent,   but    here,  so    far,    it    se 


1  aflrr  tlu  me.il  with  a  fingcr-bou  1.    The 
red  out  of  it  into  the   fin^er- 

ol\ 

There  is 


mouth  is  w.ished  and  the  water  pou 

1  h.ivc  heretofore  seen  this  done  at  m.iiiy  tables  d'hote 


ems    universal 
f 


I 


nothing  in  this  really  filth)-,  but  it  is  suggestive  of  nastincss 
have  seen  it  among  travelled  swells  in  -America.  It  is  a  habit  I 
hope  will  not  t.ike  deep  root  c\en  in  our  swilldom.  To  w.ish 
the  mouth  before  smoking  is  a  luxury.  But  then-  are  ^ome 
things  that  .ire  better  done  behind  a  screen  than  in  full  view.  I 
have  not  yet  .seen   a  single   cigar  smoked  except  my  own.     All 


smok 


e  cig.irettc' 


Tl 


le  resu 


It 


is. 


am 


fore 


eel,  when 


any  one  to   avoid  his  breath   as 


mucl 


\   as 


if)ssiOle, 


talk 
Tl 


ing  t 


o 


le  smoke 


<"■!?. 


I  < 


i> 


'A  > 


\  • 


I;  ' 


, 


;Mr 


I  r  1* 


'«( 


k 


\f 


f  !■ 


i« 


'I  ' 


1  '  ''    : 

i 

1! 

1 

|; 

.590 


./   A'./CA   //■//•//  /7//'.  SUiY. 


from  tlu:  ci^'aix-ttc  is  inli.ilcil,  aiul  makes  tlir  luu^'s  fclitl  aiul  must 
injure  licalth.  May  not  tliis,  ti)  soiuo  (.xtciit,  increase  tlie  ilre.id 
disease,  consumption,  wliicli  I  am  told  is  rather  common  in  tliis 
land?  At  the  hotel,  meals  ;ire  served  in  the  rooms,  with  no  addi- 
tion to  the  cost,  anil  juil^nn;^  from  the  tea-tra)s  l)eins4  *-arried 
alouf^  the  corridors,  I  would  think  that  nearly  all  of  its  lar^'e 
l)opulation  t.ike  their  morning'  meals  aiul  late  suppers  in  their 
private  rooms.  Indeed,  tin-  mana^^er  to  whom  I  complained  that 
I  could  not  find  any  thinv;  reaily  in  the  restaurant  until  nearly 
niru-,  informed  me  that  he  would  rather  I  took  the  e.irl)-  meal  in 
my  room,  and  that  it  couKl  be  had  as  early  as  seven.  The  people 
hen;  are  very  late  risers.  Twilight  lasts  in  summer  very  late,  and 
in  winter  the  day  is  so  short  that  oi.e  has  to  live  much  in  the 
dark.  The  people  retire  very  l.ite,  and  shops  .irc  all  closed  till 
after  nine  in  the  mornini;. 

To  nibble  at  snmethinL;'  seems  to  be  a  human  ch.iractcristic, 
and  ever)'  countrs'  h.is  its  particular  nibble.  In  .America  the  bms 
cat  peanuts  and  the  girls  chew  gum  ;  in  J.ipan  they  cat  a  small 
seed  ;  in  China  and  Indi.i  they  chew  sugar-cane  ;  in  Siam,  lUirmah, 
and  southern  India  and  Cc>Ion,  betel  nuts;  in  F.g>  pt  and 
Turkey,  ])uinpkin  seeds  ;  in  Greece,  w  .iti-rmelon  seed  :  here  they 
crack  sur.llower  seed.  In  the  street  Ciirs,  at  the  gardens,  and 
along  the  streets  people  arc  seen  eating  this  seed,  and  at  every 
corner,  women  or  bo)'s  are  selling  them.  Rvery  one  has  read  of 
the  Kremlin  of  Moscow,  and  e\'t  ry  one  desires  tn  see  it  or  kiMw 
of  it.  It  is  a  m-arl)'  tri.mgular  oKl  fcutn-ss  on  the  river  whit  li 
runs  through  Moscow  in  the  shape  nf  the  letter  S.  The  base  "\ 
the  Kremlin  triangle  rests  on  the  lower  curve  of  the  letter,  wli<  re 
the  site  of  the  fortress  lifts  some  50  or  more  feet.  The  wlmle 
length  of  the  wall  is  over  a  mile  and  a  thirtl,  through  which  one 
may  enter  b)'  five  gates,  some  of  which  are  of  historic  interest, 
and  two  are  very  sacred  passages.  Over  the  Gate  of  the  Ke- 
deenicr  is  a  picture,  "  Christ  the  Redeemer,"  highly  venerated, 
and  believed  to  possess  miraculous  powers.  It  is  a  thoroughfare, 
but  no  one  ever  passes  through  it  covered.  In  olden  days,  an)'  one 
omitting  to  remove  his  h.it  was  punished  by  being  forced  to  make 
a  large  number  of  prostr.itions.  Xow  all  do  it,  either  from  verur  i- 
tion  or  out  of  respect  to  the  prejutliccs  of  the  people.  This  form 
is  observed  by  the  highest  ami  the  lowest,  the  native  and  the 
foreigner.  Tlie  (jate  of  St.  Nicholas  is  rearly  as  venerable. 
Mere  in  ancient  times  oaths  were  administered  to  such  as  the  ab- 
solute truth  was  demanded  from,  and  'itigants  in  court  were 
expected  to  swear  to  their  cases  in  the  presence  of  the  mosaic 
])icture  of  the  saint  which  h.mgs  over  the  arch.  This  holy  image 
lias  witnessed  man)-  a  battle  and  helped  to  withstand  more  th.ni 
one  siege.  Napoleon  is  said  to  have  ordered  the  to*ver  over  it  to 
be  blown  up.  The  massive  masonry  split  from  the  top  down 
toward  the  earth,  but  the  rent  -;to[)ped   ;it    the   frame  of   the   pie- 


o 

c 

5 


t    11 


',i"'  Til; 


it: 


It 


i: 


■L'-t 


I'  ' 


I  *l 


b  ■ 


1 

1 

',                                   , 

■>                                                                                 1 

f.t 


CREA  T  HKl.LS. 


39» 


ture.  The  ^jlass  covering'  it,  ami  the  lamp  which  ilkiiiiiiialetl  it, 
and  tlic  picture  were  unscathed.  Sucli  is  tiie  statement  of  an  in- 
scription placed  over  the  <^ate  by  Alexander  I.  Through  another 
i^'ate  the  victorious  French  entered  this  fortress — the  j^oal  so 
eagerly  sought  through  so  many  wear\-  leagues  of  march,  and 
over  so  man\'  bloody  battlefields.  Within  the  Kremlin  walls  are 
the  real  historic  spots  of  this  okl  c.ipital. 

Here  is  the  odd  old  tower  of  Ivan  the  Great,  claimed  b\- the  Rus- 
sians to  have  been  founded  by  that  old  ruler  six  .ind  a  half  centu- 
ries ago.  From  its  gallery,  rea'  lied  by  a  climb  of  450  steps,  a 
splendid  view  of  the  city  is  ha-:  It  lies  mapped  around,  with 
its  houses  and  palaces  in  confused  piles,  its  boulevards  and  parks 
green  with  trees,  its  green  painted  roofs  giving,  with  the  trees,  a 
garden-like  appe.uance  to  the  wlujle  cit)-.  l'"our  fifths,  perhaps 
seven  eighths,  of  all  roofs  are  green,  the  few  patches  of  red  roof- 
ing heightening  the  effects  of  its  coniplenieiital  color.  Hend- 
ing  like  a  great  serpent  the  little  river  winds  into  the  town,  and 
b\-  a  coupK' of  graceful  curves  lies  for  a  moment  at  one's  feet,  and 
tlu-n  glides  off  b)-aiiotlur  easy  curve  and  seeks  the  outward  plain. 
Here,  close  to  one,  hang  30  odd  beautiful  bells,  two  of  them  be- 
ing of  solid  silver.  One  of  these  bears  upon  its  rim  tiie  tell-tale 
inscrij)tion  that  it  is  338  ye.irs  old.  Woe  to  the  tympanum  of 
uiie's  ears  if  he  hai)pens  to  be  in  the  gallery  at  the  hour  when 
the  great  bell  of  the  Assumption  clangs.  For  its  might_\-  tongue 
is  larger  than  a  man,  aiul  its  weight  is  64  tons.  If,  however,  the 
hearer  be  a  few  hundred  )ards  removed,  this  old  bell  peals  a  tone 
singularly  rich  and  mellow.  l'"rom  the  height  one  can  count  3C0 
churches,  many  of  them  with  gilded  domes,  dazzling  and  bright. 
At  the  foot  of  the  tower,  upon  the  pedestal  of  stone,  stands  the 
■"  King  of  Hells."  Who  of  us  in  early  childhood  has  not  heard 
of  it  ?  I  cnember  seeing  a  jiicture  of  it  wh'  n  I  was  a  small 
boy.  It  w.is  half  buried,  but  the  earth  was  dug  away  from  before 
a  break  in  it,  anil  one  or  two  men  wirt;  staiuling  in  the  orifice. 
^\'hen  I  was  11  years  okl  the  emperor  had  it  lifted  and  pi. iced 
upon  its  present  pedestal.  To  do  this  w,is  no  easy  task,  for  the 
"  king  "  is  a  monster,  o^'er  26  feet  high  and  6S  feet  in  circumfer- 
ence, or  nearly  23  feet  in  diameter  at  the  rim.  It  weighs  nearly 
200  tons,  and  the  /////(■  |)iece  l)rokon  out  of  it  leaves  an  opening 
seven  feet  high. 

Within  the  precincts  of  the  Kremlin  are  the  ^;reat  palace,  tlic 
armory  and  arsenal,  and  two  or  three  churches.  In  the  Church 
of  the  Assumption  are  vast  riches  and  v.iluable  relics.  Here  the 
czars  of  Russia  an-  crowned.  It  is  said  the  French  took  from  its 
ornaments  five  tons  of  silver  and  five  hundred-weight  of  gold.  In 
it  is  a  solid  silver  chandelier  weighing  900  i)ounds,  given  b)'  the 
Cossacks  after  recapturing  the  precious  metal  from  the  destroyed 
P'rench  army.  This  church  has  six  massive  pillars  supporting 
its  five   domes,    and   so   large    that   they    resemble  those   of   an 


>i.  il 


>'      \u 


\  . 


'        5 


mr 


'<• 


!i 


!•'•' 


39« 


./  /v'./r/-;  ;/7/7/  ////■:  sca- 


Egyptian  temple  mure  than  <i  modein  church.  It,  liowevcr,  is 
not  so  very  modern,  for  it  was  built  some  700  years  ago.  Here 
the  emperor  worships,  and  places  upon  his  own  he.id  the  crown, 
and  recei\es  the  sacr.inu'iit  as  emperor  of  ;ill  the  Kiissias. 

In  front  of  the  arsenal,  in  lon^,  compact  rows,  ornamentally 
IjlaciKJ,  are  ^J^  bronzeil  cannon,  taken  from  the  I'Veiich  army  on 
its  fearful  retreat.  Tlie\' represent  not  onl\-fhe  l'"rc  nch,  hut,  .ils.i. 
Napoleon's  subject  crowns,  for  over  a  fourth  are  Austrian,  .1  se\- 
entli  IVussian,  a  twelfth  Italian,  ethers  beinj^'  .Saxon,  Hav.irian, 
N'capolitaii,  Dutch,  and  .Spanish.  Many  of  them  have  Nai)ule- 
on's  initial  "  N."  cut  into  them,  and  ;i  threat  m.my  are  nanud. 
Tlie  names  rirc  sometimes  not  over  diLjnified.  Hut  the.se  hun- 
dreds of  cannon  were  dcei)l\'  im])rtssiv('.  Monsters  brou}j;ht  over 
such  vast  distances  to  s'ayl  I  looked  into  their  mouths  and 
wondered  \\<>w  man)'  death  warrants  tliej'  h.id  utteretl  ;  hn\\ 
many  brave  men  they  had  torn  to  pieces;  h<n\'  m.iny  women  and 
chiklren  the)  h;td  caused  to  mourn.  And  then  1  tliouj^ht  of  the 
men  who  had  been  forced  to  abandn:)  them,  of  their  terrible  suf- 
fi'rinijs,  of  their  loULjiiiLj  looks  towards  the  west  when  all  was  lo-t, 
and  h<nv  sweet  to  them  was  the  thouL;ht  of  the  balm)'  .lir  on  tin- 
banks  of  the  I'".lbe  and  the  Danube,  the  Moselle,  the  Rhine,  the 
Seine  and  the  Rhone,  where  their  loveil  ones  were.  I  could 
almost  see  tlu'in,  as  hun;,^ry  and  footsore  the)-  tott<  red  over  the 
frozen  plain,  and  at  last  ,s;mk  to  their  knees,  anil  with  i)rayers  to 
God  and  with  one  more  thoui^ht  of  home,  \ielded  themselves  to 
their  windiii"^  sluet  of  snow.  "  liow  lon^,  how  lon;^,  ()  Lord, 
wilt  thou  permit  man's  inhuni.tnit)-  to  ni.iii  make  countless  mil- 
lions mourn  I  " 

The  t^re.it  pal. ice  is  not  ver\-  handsome  without,  but  uitltiii 
there  is  much  maLjnificence,  \',ist  h.dls  of  noble  proportions,  .md 
with  .1  richness  of  ilecoration  almost  faljulous.  Here  (  )ricnt.d 
e.xuberance  has  beeii  married  to  Western  t.iste  ;  Asiatic  drcuns 
of  tjold  blended  witli  the  fine^-t  tomlu'sof  l'".uroi<e;m  .art,  h'roin 
flof)rs  in  man)'  be.iutiful  woods  m.ir\  (.'lloush'  desii^ncd  \\)t\  <x(iui- 
sitely  laid,  up  alon^r  walls  rich  .md  a|)p.irentl)'  cut  from  massive 
^'old,  up  to  thev.iulteil  ceilitu,'s,  be.iutifull)- frescoed  -all  w.is  rich 
beyond  any  thin;^  I  h.id  conceived,  and  )ct  all  in  be.iutifid  t.^te. 
Nothing  was  tawdr)' ;  it  was  rich.  Nothini^  was  simply  liixini- 
ous  ;  it  was  artistic.  These  .ire  the  parts,  of  the  pal. ice  tif 
the  present  line  of  czars.  In  another  part  are  those  of  the 
rulers  of  lon^  .1^0,  rich  but  (pi.-unt  and  l.ickin;^  so  m.my  of 
those  things  a  modern  house  would  consider  simple  com'orts. 
The  counterpane,  embroidered,  1)\'  the  dau^diter  of  .1  mon.irch  of 
three  centuries  ;il,'o  w.is  prett)',  but  a  few  roubles  would  purchase 
a  picttier  one  now,  and  a  coii])Ie  of  roubles  would  buy  .1  much 
li;,:jhter  ;uid  f.ir  warmer  coverlet  than  the  old  kinfj  slept  under. 

The  treasur)'  is  ,1  plain  building;,  but  its  contents  are  of  fabulous 
value.     Case  after  case  containing  cart  loails  of  solid  silver  and 


r 


,-/   I'Ji/'l.l.srK/':  OF  ART  A.y/)  rich  crRlOSITIES. 


,V>3 


u 
in 


ookl  plate  ;  platters  bi^  eiioui^h  to  hoUl  ,i  hah'  sheep,  or  upo 
wliicii  to  sjireail  a  bushel  of  fruit  ;  .i:;i-eat  ^'obiets  which  a  Titan 
couki  scarcely  use  to  drink  from,  so  \ak\^v.  are  they,  aiul  yet  ricii  ; 
case  after  case  of  Siivres  china,  complete  sets,  he  ^nft  of  Napoleon 
to  Alexander,  all  painted  so  i)eautiful!y  that  they  arv  works  of 
hiyh  art  ;  ^^reat  vases  from  the  same  works  ;  dozens  of  state  c.ir- 
riat^es  in  wliicii  car--  and  c/arinas  rode  to  their  coronation,  ne;.rly 
as  \ax^c  as  ikirnums  b.ind  wagon,  all  gikled  and  burnidied.  They 
were  very  rich,  but  of  wliat  clumsy  workmanship  I  A  first-class 
w.ij^on  maker  in  America  would  not  let  a  wagon  go  out  of  his 
shop  with  such  rough  wood  ;uid  ironv.ork  as  composed  some  of 
these  carriages  in  which  old  ruUrs  rode  a  few  centuries  ago  to 
be  anointed  in  the  name  of  the  i.ord.  .is  the  kings  of  men.  One 
of  the  gramlest  of  carriages  was  a  i)resent  Inun  England's  virgin 
(|uecn.  The  carri.ige  in  which  tiiat  strange  compound  of  human 
vice  and  human  greatness,  Catliarine  II.,  rode,  was  there,  and  by 
it  the  stuffed  skin  <>f  the  horse  she  used  to  ritle  "stradtUe"  uiien 
she  reviewed  her  troo])s.  Tlu'  picture;  close  by  of  the  empress 
dressed  as  a  general  officer  astride  of  a  tiiu-  horse  is  a  fiiii-  one. 
Under  it  is  the  saddle  she  rode,  and  lier  bridle,  studded  with 
jewels  ,uid  pearls  of  gre.it  v  ilue,  the  gift  of  the  Kmpi'ror  of  China 
or  Shah  of  I'ersi.i.  In  o'.e  room  ,ire  crowns  and  sceptris,  .i  mass 
of  jewels  and  gold,  some  of  the  uncut  gems  as  large  ;is  pigeon 
eggs.  1  said  to  a  Rus-.ian,  also  a  visitor,  that  the  emperor  might 
sell  these  things  and  pay  the  debt  of  the  crown.  I  lis  -eply  w.vs, 
the  crown  would  not  be  worth  much  to  him  if  In  were  to  attempt 
the  thing.  The  treasurj-  consists  of  two  gre.it  suites  of  rooms, 
oi'e  on  the  fii  I  and  the  other  on  the  second  story.  It  seems  a 
litl'e  odd  th.it  downst.iirs,  in  a  most  proniineiil  |il;ice,  is  a  gnmd 
pictiM'e  of  X.ipoleon  ( 1  think  it  is  by  Davidi.uul  his  iron  bed  ; 
and  at  the  head  of  the  .suite  on  the  second  floor  is  a  s;  Undid 
st.itue  in  marble  of  the  same  wonderful  inan.  What  ,i  b(  .iiuiful 
f,ice  his  was,  ,uul  yet  w'lat  a  strong  one  I 

Tliere  are  very  many  interesting  portraits  in  these  rooms,  ,ill  of 
the  Russian  emperors  and  all  of  the  I'olish  kings,  and  many 
of  its  nobles.  I  h.id  hop<  d  that  Kosciusko's  might  i)ossil)ly  be 
.imong  them.  Perhaps  if  ,..ey  had  it  they  woiUi  not  h.mg  it 
here.  The  museum  is  in  another  p.irt  of  the  town.  It  has  life- 
size  figures  in  every  pose,  wearing  the  costumes  of  every  province 
of  this  vast  land.  The  picture  g.illery  in  the  same  building  has 
some  fine  works,  ;i!l  .irr.uK'ed  according  to  schools.  .Some  of  them 


are  o 


f  higl 


I  order, 


have  written  to  our  minister  at   St.  Peters- 


burg for  a  permit  to  go  te  S.im.ircand,  .md  that  I  hoped  he  would 
get  it  in  four  (ia\-s.  He  rei)lii(i  th.it  he  would  get  it,  but  that 
four  days  is  ,i  short  time  to  get  .lU}-  thing  froii,  the  oflici.ils  in 
Russia, 


'  :J 


It 


"U  " 


\s\ 


n 


\    i    ;• 
\  *1 


it     t' 


i.-! 


4  i    t  /{ 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

rKINC'ELV  KINDNESS— RICH  TKAIKIE  I.ANnS— VF.ROM  J— NI'CF.SsnY 

FOR   FOKKST   I'KO  TIXTK  )N— THF  COSSACKS— HRAVK    (  IIII.DKFN 

— SCNFLOWKK   Till:  KCSSIAN  N  ilil'.l  K— KnsT(  iF  ( )\    I  111:  DON. 


Pi; 


Vladikavkaz,  Jiiiic   19,  1.S88. 

FeariN(;  that  Mr.  Lotlirop,  our  minister,  ini^iit  not  ^'ct  our 
Transcas])i,in  permit  in  time,  I  resolved  a^ain  to  avail  myself  of 
ni)'  liij^li  ]iosition  ;is  an  "  American  sovereit^n."  Armetl  with  our 
reiienlials  we  callt;d  upon  Prince  \'lailiniir  I)ol;^oroukoff,  a 
member  of  the  council  of  the  empire  and  f,'overnor-^eneral 
of  Moscow,  at  oni'  o'clock,  his  hour  of  receiitioii.  We  were 
detainetl  in  the  antc-chaniber,  with  (piite  a  numiier  of  other 
visitors,  for  fully  an  iiour.  The  prince  was  e\  identh'  having'  a 
good  ai)pctitc  for  iiis  luncii.  l'"inally  he  appeared  in  the  ^rand 
inner  room,  preceiicd  l)\'  a  few  aides,  \\\v\  hackeil  out  ni  front  of 
him.  A  committee  of  a  financial  comi)an\  was  shown  in  tirst. 
Its  chairman  i)owe(.l  np  to  the  ])rince,  kissed  him  on  either  check, 
anil  ])resented  him  with  a  cop)'  of  some  haiulsomely-hound  |)ro- 
ceeiiin^s  of  tlie  compan)-,  which  had  just  celebrated  its  jubilee. 
.Some  speeches  were  made  in  a  low  voice,  the  chairman  ami  com- 
mitteemen frequently  bowin^.^.  Tiie  prince  evitleiitly  received 
them  very  graciously.  Cards  were  then  presented,  ours  amon^^ 
them,  and  an  aide  soon  bade  us  enter.  I  introduced  myself,  ask- 
ing if  his  ixcellencN'  s|)oke  I'.nglish.  lie  replied  in  the  neg.itive. 
I  then  proceeded  in  the  best  I'Vench  I  coviKI  command.  He  b.ule 
us  most  cordially  to  be  seated,  and  asked  what  I  wished  and  what 
he  coulil  do  for  us.  To  e.\])lain  this  I  h.ul  to  mention  our  ex- 
tended journeyings,  and  wh)'  I  desired  tt)  visit  Turkestan,  to  see 
if  Russia  was  carrying  tliere  the  light  f)f  the  West,  lie  at  once 
got  us  into  conversation,  and  said  that  Willie  was  having  .1  gr.uid 
onportunit)'  in  thu-  voyaging  so  f.ir  under  the  tutcl.ige  of  .m  ex- 
])erienced  man.  I  icmarkei!  that  this  w.is  almost  the  exact  ex- 
pression  of  the  Kin.;  of  .Siam,  when  he  honored  ns  with  .in 
amh'encc.  1 1  is  Mxci  ll.ncy  at  once  became  decidedly  interoted, 
.and  kept  me  telling  him  of  the  king  and  his  n),inners,  etc.  I  tiien 
showccl  him  my  credentials.  He  said  (ien.  AnnenkotT.  the 
builder  of  the  new  road  to  S.im.ircaiul,  had  just  arrived  on  iiis 
way  to  render  liis  account  to  the  emperor,  .-uui  was  tf)  be  with 
him  that  afternoon,  and  that  he  thought  he  and  the  general  could 

394 


J'N/MJ-:/.  )■•  K/XD.XF.SS. 


S9S 


arraiif;;c  for  us.  He  kept  us  fully  25  iniiuitcs,  when,  rcmjuibci- 
in^'  tiiat  others  were  waitinj,'.  he  batle  u:  };oo(l-by,  sa\-iiig  he 
would  send  liis  secretary  to  us  that  evenin^f  with  ^ulIi  pajjers  .is 
he  couKl  .i,nve  us.  The  secretary  came  .it  nine  o'clock  w  ith  the 
information  that  as  the  matter  w.is  .ilread)' in  the  h.nuls  of  uur 
minister,  the  prince  i)referred  not  to  intervene,  but,  .idvisin^'  us  to 
proceetl  to  Tiflis,  .md  to  write  at  once  to  our  minister  to  h.ive  the 
permit  te!ei,n-a])hjd  to  the  }^M)Virnor-^feneral  of  rr.uihC.iuc.isi.i.  I 
felt  dished  and  so  exjjressed  m>stlf,  s.iyiii<;  that  I  could  not  risk 
^oin^f  so  far  and  then  prob.ibly  Inidin^f  no  means  of  making;  the 
trip  I  so  much  desireil.  llie  aide  iissureil  me  that  the  governor- 
general  said  there  was  no  iloiibt  1  vvoiild  receixc  the  ilispatch.  I 
siiil  m\'  thank-^  to  his  e.\cellenc_\-,  etc.,  etc.  J'he  iieNt  da_\-,  beinj; 
the  d.iy  \ve  left,  on  our  return  to  the  hotel  .tfter  a  \\alk,  wi-  found 
the  |)rince  had  honored  us  In- .1  c.ill  in  p''rson,  but,  tlndiUL;  n-  out, 
.sent  us  .1  mess.i^e  lh.it  before  our  Ir.iin  should  dep.irt,  he  would 
send  his  secretary  with  some  letters  whicl.  would  help  us  through, 
and  ur^ed  me  to  ^o  on  to  Tiflis.  !"he  aide  ilid  come,  and 
broui,ht  a  be.iutifull)-  en'^'rossed  letter  ot  introduction  to  I'rince 
Uondoukoff  Korsakolf,  i;o\ernor-i;eneral  of  Tr.iii'NtaUi  .isi.i,  inlro- 
diicint;  me  and  asking  such  aid  as  we  may  need  to  ijet  thro-i^h  to 
centr.d  .\si;i.  In  other  words  .American  sovereignty  is  in  the 
.iscenil.mt — .it  le.ist  for  a  while. 

\\«-  h.i\e  passed  o\er  .1  m.iiMiilii  enl  f.irmin;,  country  >n  ourwa)' 
lure,  it  beiuL;  a  !>.irt  of  the  mii,dUy  ij;rain-produun;^  plain  of  Russia. 
We  left  Moscow  .11  1  I  .it  ni;^ht,  l)iit  .it  -V30  it  w  a^  already  li-^ht  ; 
from  til. it  time  until  seven  in  the  evrnini;  the  ro.id  r.in  throu;;h  a 
country  .ilmost  .1  counterp.irt  of  our  be>^t  pr.iirie  l.uul.  a  ^'re.it 
rolling;  pl.iin  as  far  .is  the  eye  coukl  reach,  e.xcept  when  .ippeared 
inlerveninj^  copses  of  young  trees  or  growtii  along  stream^  .md 
little  rivulets,  the  whole  covered  with  r\  e  in  he. id,  wheat  sprout- 
ing or  .ilread\  up,  .mil,  tow.irds  \'eronij,  ne.irly  .1  foot  high;  o.its 
just  pi. lilted  :  pot.itoes  four  or  t"i\  e  inches  up  ;  ^m.ill  patches  of 
be.iutiful  lienii) ;  here  .md  then- plowed  land  not  yet  >h<j\\ing  ,iiiy 
green.. md  with  bro.id  |).istuies  inter  perseiL  hi  which  great  herd^of 
horses  and  cattle  .md  llocks  of  sheep  were  ;;"Tazing.  Rye  w.is  at  first 
the  predoinin.iting  growth.  With  its  greinish-gray  lieails  waving 
in  the  gentle  Ijree/e,  with  the  young  wheat  gleaming  in  emerald 
green  in  tin-  sunshine,  the  brown  plowed  tlekls  and  other  growths 
of  slightly  varying  liue-^.  with  copses  of  wood  .md  long  lines  rit 
trees  here  and  tliere,  with  the  herds  now  in  liundreds  near  by  ami 
then  cut  against  the  -^ky  >n  the  ridg»  of  x>ine  ilistant  rolling  de- 
lailion,  the  whole  prej-cnted  i  ciiarming  view  to  one  who  deligiils 
m  fields  and  farming  jiro^rx-  ts.  Near  Moscow,  and,  perha|3s,  fir 
over  100  mill -.  the  r\e  u.<'  'ighr  and  the  soil  app.irenth  thin  ; 
then  the  rye  became  heavy,  and  the  young  wheat  had  large 
health)'  he.ids.  Altogeth.-r,  this  pr.iirie  Mirpas-.es  ,my  of  ours, 
except,  ptThaps.  .1  n.irt   «)f   K.insas.      The  soil   is  deeper,  running 


.    i 


'  'J 


^/   I 


I 

.1  f 


396 


A  RACK  in //I  ■]  III-:  SIX. 


from  two  and  one  half  to  four  feet,  and  the  siibstratnm  is  bettor,  ;i 
clay  not  cold  and  stiff  like  that  ovcrlyinj;  our  hard-pan,  but  inter- 
mixed with  sand  aiul  red  oxides,  somethini,^  like  the  subsoil  of  the 
blyc-j^rass  regions  of  Kentucky,  whereas  the  bulk  of  our  prairies 
have  an  uiulcrbed  of  gravel  or  sand,  or  a  stiff,  worthless  clay. 
This  lantl  has  more  recuperative  powers  than  ours.  The  crops 
are  by  no  means  so  good  as  our  average,  but  it  i.s,  I  suspect,  ow- 
ing to  bad  cultivation.  The  plowing  is  very  shallow,  and  tluro 
seems  to  be  no  rotation.  Ever  since  we  first  entered  Poland  I 
have  noticed  that  land  seems  to  have  but  one  means  of  rest,  .nul 
that  is  by  leaving  it  fallow  for  a  greater  or  less  time.  In  the 
north  two  season>  of  crops  and  then  one  or  two  of  fallow  is  the 
rule.  This  fallow  ',uul  affords  pasturage  for  vast  herds  of  horses 
and  cattle.  Thv  lords  help  greatly  to  keep  up  the  quality  of  the 
soil.  I  also  remarked  that  all  manures  for  lOO  or  200  miles 
south  of  Moscow  are  spread  upon  the  land.  Straw  is  not  burned, 
but  tl. "  .inimais  being  so  numerous  and  nearly  ail  uiuler  cover  at 
night  and  fed  with  straw,  the  crop  of  manure  is  large  antl  utilized. 
Thus  f.ir  the<c  peop'e  are  good  farnuMs,  but  they  plow  sii  lightly 
that  the  mots  of  crops  must  depend  too  much  upon  the  nure 
.surface,  and  the  weeds  a'l  sjiroul  and  grow  as  fast  as  the  grain. 
This  makes  hand-weeding  necessary.  Cheap  labor  makes  this 
possible,  but  deep  plowing  would  save  main  .1  backache  to  the 
poor  field-laboring  women.  I  know  I  am  writing  with  considor.i- 
ble  assurance  for  one  who  sees  from  raiho.id  cars.  Hut  I  was 
bred  a  farmer,  ami  have  always  closely  observed  its  modes.  This 
enabli's  mo  to  -^le  and  to  ;isk  rjuestions  of  every  one  who  can  uii- 
derst.md  mo.  I  wi''  stick  to  second-class  c.irriages,  where  I  nufi 
the  people.  In  every  train  I  find  some  one  who  speaks  a  little 
French  or  (ierm.m  and  acts  .is  interpreter  for  me  when  he  himsilf 
cannot  gi\'e  me  inform. ition. 

Here  I  must  bring  in  one  of  my  dissertati<Mis.  I  am  o|)pos((l 
to  .ill  sumptuar)-  laws,  but  am  in  favor  of,  ;ind  would  warmly 
urge,  a  certain  kind  of  legislation  which  woulil  interfere  somewh.it 
with  private  rights.  The  land  of  a  country  maybe  in  the  owner- 
ship of  individuals,  but  its  preservation  belongs  to  the  State  and 
to  posterity.  A  man  has,  and  should  have,  the  right  to  crop  his 
land  as  ho  wishes,  but  ho  h.is  not  the  right  to  destroy  it.  IMotlu  1 
Earth  vields  of  lur  bounties.  Man  should  return  something  of 
her  rich  yields  whenever  sin-  gi\es  him  a  superabundance,  lie 
has  no  right  to  destroy  the  forests,  which  keep  up  a  healthy  r.iiii- 
fall.  Ho  should  use  the  wood,  but  a  scientific  oversight  shoul'l 
be  exercised  by  government  to  determine  when  such  use  by  tlu' 
individual  becomes  detrimental  to  the  masses — that  mass  which, 
aggregated,  makes  the  State.  Every  State  should  have  forest 
laws,  which  should  watch  over  a  m.m's  wooils  and  restr.iin  him 
from  destroying  them.  Govornnn  iit  restrains  the  hand  of  the 
man  who  would  commit  self-slaughter.     An  acre  of  good  woods 


STATF.   IXTERI'J'IRI-.XCE  10  I' R ESI-.RV I:   TRHES. 


:>'>7 


is  oftentimes  worth  more  to  a  larye  district  tliim  a  lialf-clo/cn  siicii 
men  as  would  be  fools  cnou<,di  to  cut  tlicir  own  throats.  Aj^ain, 
we  have  in  our  Western  States  a  vir^nn  si.-il,  ami  the  people  of  the 
older  States  who  have  worn  out  their  old  lanils  are  filling'  up  the 
new,  and  are  doin^f  their  level  best  to  see  how  (juickly  the)-  can 
make  them  ui\i)rotluctive.  Eveiy  thin^^  which  the  farmer  cannot 
use  or  sell  is  burned.  Our  Western  prairies  of  virgin  soil  are  now 
feeding;  the  world,  but  it  will  not  be  many  generations  before  the)' 
will  be  exhausted,  as  are  the  1;'-  Is  of  the  older  .States.  Nothing 
fitted  for  maiuMV  shouki  be  burned,  unless  when  it  be  unavoida- 
ble. If  our  people  have  not  fnrctliought  to  keep  them  from 
destroying  the  woods  .ind  from  wasting  nianun:  the  govermnent 
shouki  take  the  thing  in  hand.  We  i)ass  laws  to  p.rotect  game 
l)ecause  a  few  sportsmen  have  taken  the  thing  in  hand,  .iiul  to 
protect  fish,  which  was  also  inaugurated  by  the  followers  of 
I/aak  Walton.  \\  ho  will  take  the  initiative  and  preach  a  crusade 
.ig.unst  the  other  far  more  injurious  w.iste  r  Nearl)- every  Europe. m 
countrv.  I  l)elie\e,  has  inauguratiMJ  forestry  law  s.  and  vast  benefits 
have  accrued  therefrom.  A  i)olilical  convention  that  woukl  put  in 
a  plank  of  that  sort  woukl  tnid  it  much  more  e.isily  floateil  than 
some  of  their  tariff  platforms  wliiih  forces  the  c.indidate  to  pla\' 
the  great  niodeiii  game  of  "  mum  "'  until  the  election  be  ovi  r. 

Toward  seven  o'clock  we  entireii  anil  to()I<  an  hour  or  two  in 
passing  through  a  fine  tract  o{  wood — oak,  liirch,  and  some  pine, 
birch  scenic  lure  almost  a  national  tree  I  h.ive  seen  more  of  it 
since  I  crossed  the  Polish  frontier  tlicUi  before  in  ni)'  life.  Be- 
tween Warsaw  and  Moscow,  and  then  for  some  distance  on  the 
road  south,  we  have  passed  \er>  many  miles  through  fonsts 
uliich  looked  as  if  the  trees  were  whitewaslu d,  and  \Mst  wood- 
l)iles — tiiousands  upon  thousands  of  cords-  which  Willie  thought 
had  frost  on  them. 

We  i)assed  through  mail)-  fnu'  towns,  and  in  sight  of  hundreils 
of  ]K'asant  villages,  looking  liki'  collections  ol  ok",  straw-stack-.. 
I  sliall,  however,  not  saj'  any  Ining  of  them,  or  of  peasant  lile 
and  outlook  until  I  shall  h.ive  seen  more.  V'eronij  is  on  the 
Don,  367  miles  south  of  Mosct)W,  is  a  broad-streeted  city  of 
",o,cxx)  people,  spread  over  a  large  surface,  the  bulk  of  the  houses 
l)eing  of  one  story;  it  has  some  fine  churches.  The  cit)'  is  .»n  a 
high  bluff,  which  lies  on  one  siile  of  the  river,  and  affords  a 
fine  i)rospect  over  the  vast  plain,  on  the  oppositi'  side,  with  a 
do/en  or  two  large  villages  in  sight,  anil  great  f.irming-lands 
s])reai!  out  as  on  a  map.  The  town  seeins  a  thriving  one,  and 
its  m.irket-pl.ice  was  an  interesting  stud)',  filled  as  it  w.is  with 
country  people,  w  ilh  their  clumsy  costumes,  of  which,  too,  anon. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  necessity  of  forest  proteriion,  I  will 
state  that  I'eter  the  (ire, it  built   at  Veronii  a  large  lleet  of  deep- 


draught   ships,  with  which   he  suikleiily  coverc!   the   Hlack  .Se.i, 
and  thereby  gained  vasth'  over  the  Turks.  Tlie  timber  and  m.i-ts 


1 


I    ♦ 


4 


Ml 


I.    ♦' 


I  ¥^ 


M 


r;i 


'  i; 


I 


4 


398 


,/  A'ACJ-:  WJTJl  T]IJ:  SV\. 


m. 


for  these  craft  grew  in  the  ncighborhooci,  for  forests  abounded 
along  the  river.  Growing  population  soon  levelled  the  forests, 
and  the  Don,  which  had  floated  for  1,000  miles  armed  ships, 
became  so  shallo^v  that  only  light  flats  can  now  navigate  it.  The 
disappearance  of  trees  dissipated  the  rain-giving  clouds  to  a  great 
extent,  and  now  there  are  often  injurious  droughts.  The  stei)pe 
or  prairie  south  of  Veronij  is  wonderfully  rich.  A  very  intelli- 
gent  man,  educated  in  German  and  Swiss  agricultural  schools,  was 
our  fellow-passenger  for  two  days,  and  gave  me  great  assistance 
in  studying  the  country  passed.  The  black-soil  Russian  stepix; 
is  of  vast  extent,  stretching  from  the  Hungarian  frontier  nearly 
to  the  Ural  Mountains,  east  and  west,  and  from  less  tlian  icx) 
miles  south  of  Moscow  to  the  Hlack  Se.i,  north  and  south,  with 
occasional  breaks  into  it  of  sandy  lands,  and  covering  an  area  of 
perhaps  1,000,000  scpiare  mile'  This  is  sometimes  flat  and  some- 
what cold  ;  but  is  generally  i.iore  or  less  rolling,  and  often  has 
high  undulations.  Some,  over  which  we  ran,  were  as  high  rolling 
as  western  Iowa.  1  saw  much  land  with  full)-  four  feet  of  daik 
soil,  and  below  that  a  mass  of  fine  redilish  cla)-  ;  for  sever.d  iiuii- 
dred  miles  scarcely  a  stone  was  in  sight,  even  in  deep  r.iilway 
cuts,  and  nowhere  ilid  I  see  any  shale  or  shingle  underlying  the 
soil.  Oftentimes  as  far  as  we  coidd  see  there  were  fields  of  rvi' 
sw.iying  and  bemiing  in  the  wind.  It  for  the  first  half  of  our 
way,  seemed  to  cover  the  countrj',  and  magnificent  !)■<•,  ton, 
lu'av)--headed  and  with  tall,  fine  stalks.  As  we  c.ime  south  tlic 
wheat  became  taller  and  more  abundant,  and  w.is,  before  re.iching 
Ko.stof,  in  head  and  a  good  and  tin-  predomin.mt  cro[). 

Soutli  of  Rostof,  on  our  way  to  X'ladikavkas.  we  passed  through 
a  great  flat  plain,  all  covered  with  very  fiH'-  wheat,  or  with  grais 
now  being  cut  and  in  haj'-coeks.  The  whe  it-fields  were  of  va<t 
extent,  a  sea  of  green,  ami  the  li.iy-lands,  though  of  s[)ontaneously- 
growing  grass,  were  as  thickly-covered  with  cocks  as  our  best 
tiiTinth\-niea(lows.  .At  one  time  .1  somewhat  di->t'nt  tract  of 
6,000  to  10,000  acres  had  so  many  that  I  thought  them  thickly- 
strewn  bushes  until  the  glass  broug'it  the  hay-cocks  out.  Ku-^sia, 
generally  I  .im  told,  follows  the  three-fuld  system  two  years  of 
grain,  then  a  fallow.  In  the  south  the  fallow  lies  for  jT.irs,  with 
no  fixed  rule,  and  produces  fine  pasturage  and  splendid  li.i\. 
Sometimes  we  saw,  all  along  from  Veronij  to  this  pi.ice,  In  rds  of 
cattle  of  several  hundred  head.  I'.,ich  village  has  its  individu.dly 
owned  catMe  grazed  in  a  connnon  herd.  The  flocks  of  slue]i. 
too,  were  very  large.  All  railway-stations  had  sheds  filled  with 
wheat  in  bags,  and  huge  bales  of  wool.  The  sheep  are  frequently 
dark  .ind  Ijlack-spotted  or  brown,  and  mostly  of  the  bro.id-t.iih'd 
variety.  This  sitle  of  Rostof  we  saw  many  thousands  in  drovis, 
being  driven  from  the  great  western  plains  to  be  slaughtered  ne.ir 
the  i51;ickSta.  They  were  in  bands  of  500  to  !,cx»e;ich,  an  ox-cart 
with  a  hugh  hogsliead  of  water  .iccom])anying  each  band.  This 
for  tl  e  shepherds  who  were  dri\  ing. 


THE  COSSACKS  AM)  THEIR  CHILD  REX 


.?9'; 


Notliiiifj  lias  so  far  s<i  siir])risiil  mc  as  tlu-  Cossacks.  I  Ii.kI 
siippKsiil  tlifin  a  lialf-civilizcil  set  of  nni^li  pcoplf.  WV-  have 
lonstaiitly  hail  CossaCk  off'Kirs  on  our  trains,  polite  and  nici-  nu-n, 
and  their  wives  pleasant  ladies.  Kroni  V'eronij  to  Rostof  \\c 
came  on  a  very  slow  train,  taking  36  hours  to  make  .ihoiit  .}c>) 
miles.  It  made  stoppa^'es  of  from  a  half-hour  upward  at  sevi'ral 
stations  near  which  were  large  villages.  In  tin-,  wa)-  I  was  cnahleti 
to  go  out  and  see  how  the  Don  Cossacks  were  and  how  they 
lived.  'I'lieir  houses  were  more  comfortaiile  than  tlios<'  hilore 
seen  in  Russian  villages,  (ienerally  there  was  grass  about  tiuni 
and  little  gardens  and  flowers  in  pots  in  the  windows  of  nearly 
half  of  the  houses,  and  even  in  the  huts  of  the  jjoorest.  I  liavi- 
.dways  found  I  can  enter  .1  peasant's  cot  by  talking  to  and  caress- 
ing tile  children.  I  tried  it  here  witl:  success.  1  sjjoki-  to  full)'  JO 
squads  of  children  of  all  ages,  from  the  toddler  up  to  s(  \i-n  or 
eiglit-year-o!d  ones.  I'or  tlu'  tlrst  time  I  found  children  who  had 
no  sort  of  fi'ar  of  fonigiurs.  .An  unknown  l.uiguagi'  generall)' 
alarms  a  peasant  child.  Here  it  diii  not.  Wlu'ther  tin-  child 
was  alone  or  with  otliers,  hardly  able  to  w.ilk.  or  a  frollicking  girl 
(ir  boy,  when  I  would  spe.d<  to  it  and  hold  out  my  hand,  it  inv.iri- 
ably  gave  me  its  own  with  a  grin.  I  tlumght  at  rir>t  1  must  be 
mistaken,  but  I  tried  the  thing  at  a  ilo/.eii  villages,  back  some 
distance  from  the  station,  where  the  children  could  not  have  been 
familiar  with  foreigners.  In  every  inst  uui'  the  litth-  ones  would 
look  me  sipi.irelyin  the  f.ice  wilii  frank,  uiuowed  eyes,  ,ind  would 
tluii  scamper  off  to  tell  tluir  companion  something  of  the  man 
who  did  not  know  how  to  talk.  In  some  instances  this  little 
.ittempt  of  miu'  would  win  .1  rose  or  other  flow(;r  from  the 
mother,  who  probably  was  at  work  ne,n  i>y.  tjener.illy,  how- 
ever, most  of  the  cott.iges  were  locked  up — mother  and  father 
being  far  off  at  hard  l.ibor  in  tlist.int  fields,  ,uid  the  youngsters 
left  to  take  care  of  themselves;  or  possii)ly  the  children  of  sev- 
er.d  f.uuilii'S  are  left  in  charge  of  some  worn. m,  who,  for  tli.it  il.iy, 
st.ivs  at  home.  In  this  way  at  least  I  acetuiuted  for  the  fact  tli.it 
many  youngstiM-^  were  about  cottages  where  the  wom.iii  I  saw 
C(uilil  not  have  bi  en  the  mother  of  them  all. 

I  saw  people  mowing  grass  at  ;i  little  after  four  in  the  morning. 
I  saw  people,  too,  r.d<ing  up  grass  w<  late  as  ^y.},Q  at  evening,  I  saw 
hundreds  trudging  .doiig  tlu'  roails  and  others  on  our  train  going 
to  mow  in  distant  districts.  I  am  told  they  will  go  several  hundred 
miles  to  work  in  the  mowing  season.  l'"ifty  or  more  would  be 
seen  making  li,i\-  at  one  time.  In  this  way  each  farmer  gets 
his  gr.iss  down  at  once.  Men  and  wmneii  walk  UK)  miles  for  the 
privilege  of  working  for  Tkj  to  <So  cents  ,1  day.  iXnd  )  et  there  are 
men  with  us  who  rave  at  our  government  ;ind  talk  of  themselves 
.is  being  wage-slaves!  lUit  such  will  say  the  purchasing  i)ower  of 
money  in  cheap  labor  countries  ivens  things  up.  This  is  a  great 
mistake.  Articles  representing  l.ibor  are  chea]),  but  these  are  lux- 
uries.    Hut  staple  .articles  of  food  .ind  niateri.il  cost  not  much  less 


I 


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hi 


t. 


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./  /'./(/■.  //////  ////■;  .sY'iV. 


t 


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I 


ill  otlicr  l.iiuls  tliaii  in  oiir  interior  States.  Our  laborers  live  on 
the  fat  of  the  i.iiul  and  wear  j^'ood  clotlies.  These  consume  no  fat 
and  precious  little  loan,  and  their  clothes  are  cheaj)  aiul  well 
p.itched — never  wear  out. 

After  leavinj^  Veronij  a  half  <lay's  distance  we  saw  little  or  no 
timber,  and  then  came  to  a  couiitr)-  where  manure  is  almost  the 
only  fuel.  It  is  mixeil  up  with  straw  ami  made  into  c.ikes  as  in 
the  other  Oriental  countries  wc  have  seen,  or.  what  is  more  usu.il 
here,  m.ide  into  larvae  bricks  a  foot  lon;.^  and  four  inches  wide  and 
thick.  This  fuel  was  everywhere  to  be  seen.  \'ery  oftv^n  the  ilonr- 
yard  was  fenced  in  with  this  stuff,  to  be  used  when  needed.  I 
spoke  of  the  Kussi.ui  people  eatini;  sunflower  seeils.  1  have  tried 
them  now.  .md  when  i>.d<ed  or  roasted  tluy  are  nearl),  if  not  (piile, 
as  a^ree.d)le  .is  the  peanut.  Tlie  amount  thus  used  here  In  enor- 
mous. ( )ne  will  sometimes  see  little  p.itches  of  street  and  of 
parks  gray  with  the  hulls,  ami  there  is  rarely  a  s|)()t  .il)out  a  depot 
or  place  of  resort  where  the  j^rotind  is  not  thick!)'  strewn  with 
them.  We  have  seen  thousands  of  acres  growing  the  pl.mt.  At 
one  place  I  saw  a  field  of  over  lOO  acres,  and  a  smaller  field  was 
rarely  out  of  si^lit.  It  furnishes  .i  large  .imount  of  oil  much  usnl. 
e^pici.dly  about  their  fe.ist  d,i\'s.  I  h.ive  often  wondered  they 
were  not  utilized  with  us,  ,md  have  myself  given  them  to  my 
chickens.  Who  will  start  the  cracking  them  into  fashion  at 
home?  They  are  better  than  peanuts,  in  th.it  thev  are  so  sm.ill 
tli.it  they  do  not  fill  up,  and  in  that  w.iy  .i  little  e.iting  keeps  one 
a  long  while  in  occupation.  I  will  s.i\-  for  the  benefit  of  our 
joungsters,  there  is  an  art  in  eating  them  ;  they  are  put  endwise 
between  the  front  teeth  .md  then  cracked;  with  the  tongue  the 
hull  is  thrown  out  ami  tin;  kernel  letaiiieil,  soiiu.uli.it  as  >eeils  .ire 
eaten  by  canaries.  Roast  some  sunllower  seed,  mv  \oung  re.ider 
— not  till  burned,  but  simjily  done — then  watch  .i  canary  e.il,  .iiul 
thank  me  for  a  new  experience.  I  .im  told  they  are  perfectly 
lu-.ilthy.  .md  keep  lots  of  people  out  of  mischief.  Ihere  is  nothing 
like  .1  pleasant,  ea.sy  occup.Uion.      I'eaiiuts  s.itiate ;   these  do  not. 

We  spent  some  hours  .it  N'o\-ocherkask,  the  capital  of  the  Dmi 
Cossacks.  It  w.is  early  in  the  morning,  giving  us  an  opjjortunit)- 
of  seeing  the  pea.sants  with  ilieir  produce  in  the  different  r.i.irket-^. 
Little  wagons  were  ranged  along  the  market  places,  loaded  with 
vei^etables  or  with  e.nthen  ,md  wooden  jars,  holding  from  a  (|ii.ut 
up  to  sever.d  g.illons.  and  filled  with  sour  milk  -not  -.k'nimeil.  but 
thick  and  creamy.  It  was  not  the  bonny-clabber  of  our  Southern 
St. lies — one  of  (iod's  best  gifts  to  man — for  clabber  will  not  be.ir 
shaking,  the  whe\'  at  once  separates  from  the  curd  .iiul  s])oils  it. 
Our  Northern  people  call  it  spoilt  milk,  and  lose  ;i  great  luxury. 
The  Cossack  sour  milk  is  ])robably  turned  with  rennet,  as  is  the 
"  lubbin  "  of  the  Turkman  in  Asi.i  Minor.  The  buyers  taste  be- 
fore purchasing.  A  few  old  women  t.isted  so  often  that  we  con- 
cluded they  were  getting  a  cheap  breakfast. 


)    :■ 


niNV  RICH  I.AM) 


401 


elliUvlSC 

<^ur  the 

Liils  arc 

rcaik-r 

it,  aiul 

cifiotly 

111  nt)t. 
lir  Don 
ntuiiiiy 
uirki  t^. 
0(1  \vill> 
a  (jiiarl 
m<l,  but 
outln  in 
not  boar 
spoiN  it. 
hixiiiy. 
IS  is  tlu' 
taste  bl- 
ue cini- 


lii  these,  as  in  other  Eastern  markets,  i-very  thin^  is  solil  from 
pill  to  a  harrow;  from  a  sard  nf  t.ittiii^'  to  .1  bolt  uf  cutt 


on 


Iroin 


.1  dried  minnow  to  a  stur^'eon.  Hy  tiie  u,i\',  the  Dun  is  tlie  veri- 
t.diie  lioMii'  of  tiiis  inai^niMcenl  .lud  dfhiious  fish,  lie  resembles 
siiinewiiat  mir  sturgeon  in  appi-.iranei'.  but  far  siirp.i>ses  liim  in 
tl,i\i'r.  It  is  from  ti\e  e^'^j  of  tlii-^  tisli  tlie  celebr.ited  c.i\  i.ir  is 
le.     (ire.it  factories  are  devoted   tn  it   in  .ill  towns  aloni'  the 


mat 


It  deli 


lMl\ 


and 


riviT.    t)l  a  cert.iin  small  si/e  the  stiiii^roii  is  .1  j^ie.i 
is  c.irried  .dive   in   t.iiiks  t(j   Moscow  .md  St.    I'eleisbiirL;   for  ilie 
>f   the  rich.      In  the  diniiiij-h.ill  of   the  hotel  iSlavi.mski 


tabli 
W 


iz.iar)  at  Moscow  there  is  a  lar^'e  t.mk  or  fount. lin  of  ninniii}^ 
w.iter,  in  which  fish  are  const;miIy  kept,  beiiv^  renewed  from  d.i_\- 
to  d.iy.     A  Ljui'st  picks  out  his  ri>li  —  it  is  at  on 
in  .1  few  minutes  is  a  temptin;^  <li-.h  on 


tile   t.ibl 


ce  scooped  u]),  .iiu 


1  ueiity-tive 


thousand  tons  of  f'-.!!  are  t.iken  from  the  Don  .miui.illy,  and  over 
130  tons  of  c.ivi.ir  .iri'  m.ule  .iloii^'  its  banks.  The  fishiiiL;  is  ex- 
clusively the  property  of  the  Don  (.'ossacks.  who,  like  the  Imiuis, 
,ue  .1  people  to  themselves,  are  qiitisi  free,  and  h,i\i'  priviie^^es 
other  provinces  do  not  possess.  The  heir  .ijjp.irent  t'  the  Russian 
throne  is  m.ide  "  lletinan"  of  tlu'  province,  .md  is  lonsidcivd  by 
the  C'oss.icks  their  own.  'I'hey  serve  onl_\'  three  years  in  the  .irmy, 
while  other  Russi.ms  serve  five.  My  prejudices  a^^ainst  the 
Russians  are  bein^'  nibbeil  olf.  for  I  cm  call  the  Cossacks  a  spleii- 
<lid  lot  of  fellows. 

Rostof  is  a  thriviiiL;  business  cit}'  of  70,000  to  .So,ooo  peojile, 
situated  on  .1  hii,di  bluff,  has  bro.id  streets,  and  is  fairl\-  well  built. 
Aloiii;  the  ri\er  it  shows  a  busy  scene,  two  or  three  mites  of  piirs 
lined  with  w.iri'houses  on  .1  n.irrow  strip  under  the  bluff  on  which 
the  city  staiuls,  and  the  w.iter  covereil  with  steamers,  bar<^es,  ,md 
li^'ht  craft.  The  r.iilro.ul  runs  .ilon^^  this  pier,  anil  vast  piles  of 
^'rain  in  s.icks,  and  wool  in  bales,  and  cotton  in  black  woollen  b.i^- 
l^in;^  from  Transc.iucasia.  show  the  .imount  of  commerce  done  in 
this  Russian  seaoort.  Coal,  too,  is  sei-n  in  i^reat  ipiantities.  Wry 
rich  co.il-tlelils  lie  not  f.ir  up  the  Don,  and  I  was  tokl  a  ^ood  (pi.d- 
ity  of  anlhr.icite  exists  in  exh.iustless  supply. 

I'"rom  Rostof  to  \'kidik.i\kas,  a  distance  of  41G  miles,  is  at  first 
throiii^h  an  almost  tlat  plain,  on  which  whe.it,  stretchiui;  for  miles 


am 


1  miles,  was  su])erb.      I   have  never  seen  such   fiekl> 


'■k'' 


an 


ami  at  the  same  time  so  heav)'  in  head.  On  the  jilain,  too,  i^ 
enormous  crop  of  h,iy.  The  ha\'  l.md,  I  w.is  informed,  is  let,  not 
!)>•  the  .icre,  but  b)'  the  verst.  Alont,'  this  pkiin  are  many  mounds 
fioni  four  to  ten  or  more  feet  hit,'!!,  said  to  be  tin;  tombs  of  chief- 
t.iins  of  old,  who  were  buried  there  duriiiLj  inroads  of  the  T.irtars 

This  w.is  their  hi''hwa\-  .after 


and  olliers 


fr 


om 


isi.i  in 


to  I'. 


urop 


they  had  passed  the  Caucasian  raii^'e.  Some  few  miles  back  from 
this  place  on  the  road  we  lost  the  l)ulk  of  our  ])asson;4ers,  who 
ali<.;hted  for  the  mineral  s|)rin^s  which  abound  about  the  neii^h- 
borhood,  .md  which  the  Russian  ^'overnment  is  endeavorinLj  to 
make  the  .Saratos^a  of  k\issia. 


*■  t  \ 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Photographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


m 


14 

1.6 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MSSO 

(716)872-4503 


A 


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■M 


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ff  ih 


iv 


402 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


Un  to  that  time  \vc  had  a  gay  company,  mostly  Petersburgers. 
Nearly  all  spoke  either  German  or  French,  and  many  both.  All 
were  jolly,  and  the  ladies  easily  becoming  acquainted  with.  In- 
decd,  in  every  instance  they  made  the  first  advances  towards  us. 
It  had  become  known  we  were  Americans,  and  all  seemed  anxious 
to  be  of  service  to  us  or  to  make  our  time  pleasant.  Some  of 
them  were  students  off  for  their  vacation,  young  men  of  a  very 
high  order  of  intelligence.  I  find  that  German  is  becoming  very 
popular,  and  is  studied  more  than  French  among  the  masses. 
The  news  of  the  death  of  the  Emperor  Frederick,  which  reached 
us  at  Rostof,  was  deeply  lamented,  and  all  seemed  to  fear  the 
consequence.  Just  before  reaching  the  mineral  springs  Mount 
Elbruz  came  magnificently  in  sight.  He  presents  a  glorious  head, 
lifting  above  the  clouds.  He  is  18,500  to  iS,6oo  feet  high,  and  is 
one  of  the  monarchs  of  the  world.  It  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  look 
upon  these  mighty  snow-clads,  a  sensation  for  which  one  can 
make  many  miles  of  hard  travel.  Few  mountains  present  so 
noble  a  sight  as  this  sovereign  of  Europe — for  he  is  more  on  that 
continent  than  on  Asia,  and  stands  3,000  feet  above  Mount  Blanc. 


m^^ 


u    V 


7 


,M 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

VI.ADIKAVKAS— GRAN1>    VIEWS    OK     IHK    CAUCASUS— A    C.I.ORIOUS 
TRIJ'— FLOWERS— KRUJT—TIFLIS   I'RETTV  AM)   INTEREST! N(;. 


Georgia  Wayside  Station  in  tlie  Caucasus  Mountains, 

June  26,  1888. 

Again  I  write  from  Asia,  and  from  a  locality  which  in  my 
wildest  dreams  I  never  thought  to  visit,  in  the  very  heart  of  the 
Caucasus  Mountains,  near  which  we  have  supposed  our  race  was 
cradled.  The  roar  of  a  rushing  stream,  whose  fountain-head  is 
near  by  in  a  glaciered  peak,  separating  Asia  from  Europe,  fills  my 
ear.  The  odor  of  a  lime-tree  comes  through  my  window — an  odor 
as  sweet  as  in  my  youth  I  dreamed  was  the  breath  of  the  Circas- 
sian maiden,  whose  home  was  in  the  deep  valleys  of  these  moun- 
tains about  me.  All  around  me  are  lofty  heights  clothed  in  won- 
drous green.  They  encircle  a  little  basin  not  a  half  mile  long  and 
under  400  yards  \\\dc,  a  basin  which  seems  to  have  been  scooped 
deep  down  among  mountains  several  thousand  feet  high,  and  all 
densely  covered  with  trees,  and  having  no  apparent  outlet  in  any 
direction.  Last  night  we  slept  among  the  clouds.  Coming  down 
to-day  a  few  miles  we  found  this  spot  so  pretty  that  we  both  said 
at  once:     "  Let  us  rest." 

Just  at  nightfall  yesterday  a  wild  storm  caught  us  upon  the 
summit  or  dividing  line  between  the  two  continents,  7,977  feet 
above  the  sea.  Hail-stones  rattled  about  us,  the  lightning  flashed, 
and  the  thunder  rolled  as  if  in  anger  that  two  Yankees  should  at- 
tempt to  visit  this,  its  iofty  home.  IJclow  us  all  was  cloud  ;  about 
us  all  was  cloud— a  bright  streak,  however,  seen  through  a  cloud- 
rift  illumined  old  Kazbek's  dome,  on  which  Prometheus  was  bound 
and  suffered.  A  dashing  run  soon  brought  us  down  to  the  high- 
est station,  where  we  spent  our  first  night  in  the  Caucasus 
Mountains. 

But  I  must  go  back  to  make  my  start  into  these  mountains 
regularly.  1  was  unprepared  for  the  beauties  which  are  the  main 
features  of  Vladikavkas.  It  is  a  town  of  some  thirty  odd  thousand 
population,  including  a  considerable  military  force  always  stationed 
in  or  about  it.  It  stands  on  the  edge  of  the  plain,  extending 
along  the  banks  of  the  Terek  River,  here  running  off  to  the  north. 
This  river  is  a  rushing  stream,  so  darkly  muddy  and  thick  that  it 
looks  like  liquid  muck.  So  rapidly  does  it  run  through  the  town 
that  its  roar  is  constantly  heard  as  if  it  were  a  ca.scade.     A  broad 

4<'3 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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boulevard,  with  promenade  in  the  centre,  shaded  by  quadruple 
rows  of  lime-trees,  now  deliciously  fragrant,  runs  a  mile  long 
through  the  town,  near  to  and  parallel  with  the  river.  On  this  at 
evening  was  a  crowd  of  promcnaders,  well  dressed  and  gay.  The 
uniforms  of  t'\e  officers  and  the  costumes  of  the  Georgians  and 
Caucasians,  of  some  bright  color,  the  men  with  long  knives  and 
pistols,  the  gay  handkerchiefs  over  many  of  the  ladies'  heads,  gave 
the  walks  a  very  bright  appearance.  Stretching  behind  the  town 
is  the  great  upper  chain  of  the  Caucasus,  which  commences  on  the 
north  side  of  the  Black  Sea,  east  of  the  Azof,  and  runs  700  miles 
southeasterly  into  a  deep  notch  it  makes  in  the  Caspian.  These 
mountains  rise  \ery  rapidly  by  a  few  tall  foot-hills  on  the  north  or 
European  side,  and  spread  far  to  the  south,  covering  a  large 
country  lyingbetwcen  the  two  great  inland  seas.  The  real  backbone 
of  the  whole  range  lifts  immediately  from  the  European  side. 
Vladikavkas  looks  at  this  mighty  backbone,  and  sees  it  througli- 
out  a  length  of  75  miles,  for  on  its  northern  line  tlie  range  is  al- 
most straight,  with  no  spurs.  First  there  area  succession  of  foot- 
hills in  range,  beautifully  wooded  and  green,  which  look  as  if 
mantles  of  emerald  velvet,  soft  and  smooth,  were  spread  over 
them.  These  foot-hills  have  prettily  undulating  crests,  and  are 
broken  and  uneven,  but  softened  and  toiiud  down  by  the  small 
trees  and  bushes  which  cover  them.  They  stand  generally  in  a 
single  row,  a  sort  of  ornamental  bodyguard  in  front  of  the  mon- 
archs.  Behind  these  advanced  foot-hills  are,  in  mighty  column, 
the  real  guard — tall,  rugged  rocky  mountains — broken,  full  of 
precipices  and  deep  gorges,  and  crested  with  massive,  sharp  rocks, 
lifting  in  horns  and  jagged  teeth.  These,  if  they  were  the  main 
range,  would  be  grand  mountains.  I5ut  they  are  overtopped  by 
the  great  snow-capped  peaks  which  cut  the  .sky  over  and  beyond 
them.  In  many  features  these  mountains  are  among  the  finest 
in  the  world,  and,  viewed  from  the  i.orth,  present  a  noble  out- 
line. For  hundreds  of  miles  they  lift  up  boldly  to  an  average 
height  of  nearly  11,000  feet.  Elbruz  and  Kazbek,  respectively 
18,500  and  16,500  and  odd  feet,  occupying  the  centre  of  the  vast 
line — themselves,  however,  perhaps  not  far  from  120  miles  apart. 
Kazbek,  until  comparatively  lately  supposed  the  taller  of  the 
two,  stands  behind  Vladikavkas,  his  lofty,  steep  dome  of  bur- 
nished silver,  flanked  by  other  peaks  to  the  east  and  west,  reminds 
one  somewhat  of  the  view  had  at  Interlaken  in  the  Swiss  ober- 
land.  The  different  peaks  here,  however,  do  not  apparently  run 
along  in  snowy  heights  from  Kazbek,  but  lift  at  intervals,  this  ap- 
pearance owing  probably  to  parts  of  them  being  hidden  by  the 
terrible  rocky  mountains  in  advance. 

Unfortunately,  there  is  no  elevation  in  the  town  from  which  to 
take  in  this  whole  view.  At  the  rear  door  of  a  large  store  we 
found  a  point  from  which  to  take  in  a  large  and  the  best  part  of 
the  picture.     The  proprietor,  seeing  us  there  for  quite  a    \  liile, 


i 


1!^ 


A  LUNCH  IN  CAMF  WITH  RUSSIAN  OFFICERS.     405 

brought  us  chairs,  so  that  at  leisure  wc  watched  the  huge  moun- 
tains for  much  more  than  an  hour  as  the  sun  sank  to  his  rest.  A 
few  fleecy  clouds  hung  around  the  giddy  heights,  now  veiling 
them,  then  slowly  passing  off.  Here  a  cone  was  lit  up  and  glowed. 
There  another  in  shadow  was  cold  and  spectral.  Now  the  snows 
glistened  white  under  the  falling  rays;  then  they  became  pink  or 
rose,  and  finally  of  a  golden  pink  or  delicate  salmon.  We  looked 
till  the  horizontal  sunbeams  painted  the  whole  in  mellow  golden 
tint.     \  turned  away  quickly  that  I  might  hold   in  memory  the 


glorious  scene 


We  took  a  long  walk  in  the  morning  about  the  town. 


Standing 

at   a  corner,  doubtf'il  which   way  to  go,   an  intelligent   man   in 
fairly  good  German  asked  if  he  could  assist  us.     We  got  into  con- 
versation.    Learning  whence  we  came,  he  asked  if  the  Jews  pros- 
pered there.     On  my  telling  him  of  their  great  thrift  and  success 
in  our  town,  he  sighed  and  said  he  often  drcarried  of  America,  and 
wondered  if  he  might  ever  reach  it,  and  inquired  as  to  the  probable 
cost  of  reaching  New  York.     We  were  in  the  Jewish  quarter,  and 
were  soon  surroundad   by   quite   a  number — men,   women,  and 
children,  whose  dark  eyes  and  other  marked  features  showed  their 
ancestry.     They  do  not  anywhere  since  we  left  Poland  wear  the 
marked  costume  there  seen,  nor  have  they  that  studied,  solemn 
look  so  characteristic  of  the  Polak  sons  of  Israel.    In  the  outskirts 
of  the  town  a  Russian  officer,  seeing  us  again  doubtful  whicii  way 
to  take,  pointed  to  a  road  running  into  the  country,  and  evidently 
indicated  that  we  should  follow  it.     A  half-mile's  walk  explained 
his  meaning.     We  came  in   sight  of  a  miliLary  encampment.     A 
spot  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  square  had  been  planted  in  trees 
in  regular  transverse  rows,  now  old  enough  to  make  a  nice  shade. 
In  the  squares  made  by  the  cross  rows,  and  elevated  on  tufted 
plats,  were  pitched  the  tents  of  a  regiment.     Passing  in  front,  we 
were  ordered  off  by  a  sentinel.      We  walked  down  the  side,  and 
seeing  some  ofificers  on  the  porch  of  one  of  their  quarters — com- 
fortable one-story  houses  in  the  rear  of  the  tented  camp — I  ap- 
proached to  apologize  for  our  intrusion.     We  were  invited  to  be 
seated,  and  finding  two  or  three  who  spoke  some  French  were  in- 
vited to  the  mess-tent  to  take  a  glass  of  wine.     It  was  12  o'clock, 
and  their  dinner  was  nearly  ready.      After  a  glass  of  wine  taken 
and  some  jokes  with  the  officers— there  were  by  this  time  a  dozen 
present — we  were  pressed  to  remain  and  eat  with  them.     Wc  did 
so,  and  had  a  right  jolly  good  time.     They  were  all  yom-::,  for  it 
was  a  lieutenant  mess,— and  I,  too,  cannot   realize,  except  when 
climbing,  that  I  am  not  a  boy.      Joke  after  joke  passed  in  bad 
French,  helped  out  by  worse  German,  and  laughter  was  the  rule. 
We  finally  parted,  and  left  behind  us  as  nice  a  set  of  young  fel- 
lows as  I  have  ever  met,  bright,  genial,  polite,  and  finely  mannerd 
young  men,  who  again  showed  us  that  the  Russian  bear  can  have 
very  velvety  paws. 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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Our  English  guide-book  luid  made  us  expect  the  hotels  of 
Vladikavkas  to  be  bad,  dirty,  and  buggy,  and  we  intended  to 
hurry  through.  The  hotels  have  improved,  or  the  traveller  who 
gave  Murray  his  ideas  was  over  fastidious.  We  found  the  Hotel 
de  France  quite  comfortable  for  two  nigh;s,  and  its  director  most 
kindly  gave  is  much  assistance  in  getting  a  carriage  and  provid- 
ing for  post-horses  over  the  mountains  to  Tiflis. 

We  took  a  "  tarantas  " — a  sort  of  strong  victoria — and  engaged 
relays  of  iiorses  for  the  whole  distance,  three  to  each  station,  of 
which  there  are  I2,  the  run  varying  from  12  to  20  versts.  The 
distance  to  Tiflis  is  201  versts,  134  miles.  A  "  telega  "  or  springless 
v.'agon  is  generally  used  by  officers,  and  costs  less,  and  the  dili- 
gences, two  daily,  still  less.  But  we,  for  the  time  being,  own  our 
carriage,  and  can  take  as  many  days  for  the  trip  as  we  may  wish. 
Horses  are  harnessed  abreast  up  to  four.  On  the  steep  parts  of 
the  road  the  diligence  uses  as  many  as  eight,  four  at  the  pole  and 
two  and  two  in  the  lead,  the  two  preceding  spans  having  a  pos- 
tilion to  eacli. 

We  started  from  Vladikavkas  before  the  sun  had  risen.  An 
hour's  run  brought  us  into  the  foot-hills  along  the  banks  of  the 
swift-rushing  Terek.  Not  a  single  cloud  or  a  cloudlet  was  to  be 
seen.  The  green  hills  were  deliciously  fresh  in  the  cool  morning 
air.  The  rocky  monsters  behind  were  sullen,  dark,  and  repellant 
in  their  rugged  grandeur  ;  their  denticulated  crests  were  cut  clear 
and  exact  upon  the  snowy  masses  rearing  behind,  white,  cold, 
and  as  bright  as  burnished  silver.  As  we  rode  onward  the  sun 
dipped  into  the  valleys,  warming  up  and  lifting  the  moisture- 
laden  atmosphere,  which  reaching  and  touching  the  snowy 
heights,  was  caught,  and  its  invisible  woof  woven  by  icy  fingers 
into  filmy  clouds.  Now  a  delicate  cloud-spray  rose  and  bent  like 
a  wreath  of  pale  smo"kc  from  the  loftiest  point  ;  then  spray  met 
spray,  thickened,  and  fell  like  gossamer-mantles  over  the  mon- 
arch's shoulders,  while  above  the  snow-crowned  brow  caught  up 
and  held  the  glowing  sunbeams.  Up  the  banks  of  the  rushin^g 
Terek  we  rode,  our  driver  cracking  his  whip,  and  the  bells  on  our 
shaft-horse  merrily  jingling.  On  our  right  and  on  our  left  rose 
near  by  the  bush-covered  hills,  and  then  came  the  rocky,  inner  line 
in  massive  and  mighty  precipices,  broken  and  cleft,  and  revealing 
bits  of  snow-clads  beyond. 

The  scenery  along  the  narrow  pass  was  fine  from  the  begin- 
ning, and,  growing  finer  as  we  proceeded,  became  terrifically  grand, 
at  the  Dariel  Gorge,  which  gives  its  name  to  the  entire  pass. 
Through  a  cleft  in  the  mountains,  which  lift  thousands  of  feet 
above,  the  rushing  stream  has  cut  its  way.  Roaring  in  a  succes- 
sion of  cascades,  it  whirls  below.  High  above,  the  mountains 
lift  in  point  upon  point — needles  and  teeth  upon  needles  and 
teeth.  We  entered  a  sort  of  vast  pit,  cut  down  in  raggec  ag- 
gcd  masses  of  solid  rock,  the  broken-pointed  and  denticulated 


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PORT^  CAUCASIA.     GRAND  SCENERY. 


407 


pinnacles  of  its  rim  reaching  tiie  blue  sky,  thousands  of  feet 
above  us.  The  cleft  through  which  the  river  rushes  is  of  solid 
granite,  which  has  here  upheaved  the  mighty  backbone  of  the 
range,  carrying  the  stratified  rocks  far  aloft,  bending  and  pitching 
them  into  broken  curves  and  vertical  sections.  These,  through 
the  wash  and  melt  of  countless  ages,  have  been  split  into  pinnacles 
and  spires,  horns  and  jagged  teeth,  rising  one  above  the  other,  so 
closely  pitched  as  to  seem  perpendicular  when  viewed  from  below. 
Passing  through  the  cleft  we  were  in  a  mighty  rock-pit,  the  walls 
of  which  at  the  lower  cleft  and  at  the  one  above  so  blending  and 
running  into  each  other  in  their  confusion,  that  there  seemed 
absolutely  no  exit.  We  seemed  caged  in  a  rocky  crucible,  whose 
upper  edges  were  thousands  of  feet  above  us,  and  uj)  which  no 
human  foot  could  climb.  A  sharp  bend,  however,  brought  us 
through  another  cleft  where  there  was  a  Russian  fortress,  and  on 
a  rock,  several  hundred  feet  high,  was  perched  an  old  ruin  built 
l,8cX)years  ago,  when  Rome  was  mistress  of  the  world.  These 
two  clefts,  in  the  granite  ribs  of  the  earth,  are  the  celebrated 
"  Porta;  Caucasian,"  locking  the  pass  between  the  Roman  empire 
and  the  unconquerable  Scythians,  whose  home  was  the  boundless 
steppes  of  the  north.  Not  far  from  this,  cut  as  a  gallery  high 
upon  the  terrific  precipice,  we  saw  a  narrow  road  far  above  us, 
running  along  the  dizzy  crag.  When  and  by  whom  built  I  know 
not,  for  there  is  no  mention  of  it  in  the  guide-book,  and  no  one 
we  met  could  tell  any  thing  of  it.  Perhaps  it  was  chiselled  by 
those  hard  Roman  hands,  whose  iron  grip  knew  no  relenting, 
when  a  senaitis  consultum  had  decreed  a  nation  was  to  be  de- 
stroyed, nor  could  we  see  any  use  for  it,  unless  the  pass  below, 
was,  at  the  time  that  this  was  cut,  a  lake  which  has  since  broken 
through. 

Passing  through  the  Dariel  Gorge,  and  soon  ascending  by  easy 
grade  over  the  fine  military  road,  Kazbek  rose  close  by  us,  his 
head  shaped  like  a  Georgian's  cap,  or  a  very  steep  dome.  A 
great  glacier  descended  from  his  shoulders,  now  in  deep  fissures 
clear  and  greenish  under  our  glasses,  then  broken  over  some  lofty 
crags,  it  showed  a  mighty  precipice  of  riven  snow.  This  glacier 
was  not  colored  and  stained  by  dust  and  debris,  but  was  white, 
pure  and  as  undefiled  as  a  snowflake  just  caught  in  its  fall.  Here 
we  found  a  well-built  station,  and  close  by  a  village  of  Circassian 
mountaineers.  Seated  at  a  window  looking  out  upon  the  snowy 
mountain,  we  had  a  delicious  meal  of  mountain-trout,  and  drank 
to  the  health  of  old  Kazbek  in  a  bottle  of  Caucasian  wine. 
After  dinner,  finding  a  bench  near  the  house,  I  lay  down,  and 
breathing  from  a  fragrant  cigar,  gave  myself  up  to  one  of  the 
sweetest  of  all  delights — a  communion  with  undefiled  nature.  I 
fear  I  am  too  much  in  love  with  nature  and  her  creation  to  de- 
scribe her  in  her  various  haunts — each  one  is  so  beautiful  that  I 
■  am  apt  to  think  the  present  one  unequalled  by  any  which  has 


A 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SCJV. 


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'A 


gone  before.  A  lot  of  men  and  bo)-s  {^atlicred  about  us  to  sell 
crystals  and  other  specimens.  Our  ojiera-glasses  made  tliem  for- 
get trade.  These  have  been  the  delight  of  the  ignorant  in  all 
nations. 

We  did  not  see  many  flocks  on  our  upward  trip,  but  in  the 
narrow  valley  there  were  small  herds  of  roach-back  hogs — queer, 
plucky  little  fellows,  with  prodigious  crops  of  bristles  and  little 
meat.  Now  and  then  a  flock  of  sheep  could  be  seen  on  a  steep 
slope,  looking  as  though  tlicy  were  hanging  rather  than  walking 
upon  it.  The  mountains  abound  in  game — chamois,  .-oebuck, 
and  wild  boar,  bear,  stags,  and  the  ibex.  We  saw  a  jKiir  of  horns 
from  the  latter,  lately  killed,  which  weigiied  50  pounds.  We  met 
many  vehicles  passing  from  Titlis  and  beyond,  where  all  Russians 
who  can,  leave  for  the  hot  summer  months.  The  stations  arc 
government  houses  where  change  of  horses  is  had,  a  slight  buffet 
is  spread,  and  where  a  good  many  people  can  sleep  in  a  large 
common  room  by  providing  their  own  bedding;  each  station  has 
also  a  room  or  two  with  comfortable  beds.  They  are  run  on  the 
principle  of  the  Kast  Indian  rest-houses.  A  traveller  has  a  right 
to  stop  two  or  three  days  on  payment  of  a  moderate  fee  for 
lodging,  and  longer  if  no  other  traveller  needs  his  place.  We 
spent  two  nights  in  them,  and  not  at  those  recommended,  but 
where  our  convenience  demanded,  and  \'/ere  very  comfortable. 
The  guide-book  dwells  upon  the  necessity  of  bug-powtler,  etc., 
in  all  of  this  country.  We  have  not  felt  a  flea  or  any  other 
nocturnal  brute.  The  English  are  so  particular  that  they  keep 
themselves  miserable.  Thej'  are  like  the  avenue  lady  who  insisted 
that  the  mayor  should  keep  nude  boys  from  bathing  off  the  break- 
water, admitting  at  the  same  time  that  she  could  see  nothing 
shocking  e.\cei)t  when  she  used  her  glasses. 

Where  the  valley  widened  out  after  passing  Kazbek  station, 
villages  often  perched  upon  the  steep  slopes,  and  queer  two  and 
three  story  towers,  sloping  upward  like  an  obelisk,  and  occasion- 
ally the  ruin  of  a  castle  of  considerable  size  and  of  picturesque 
appearance.  Some  of  these  towers  are  seen  dizzily  roosting 
upon  steep  and  high  rocks,  where  in  the  days  of  yore  the  Geor- 
gian chiefs  could  swoop  down  upon  caravans  passing  from  I-lurope 
to  Asia,  or  vice  versa.  I  suspect,  however,  they  were  used 
mainly  as  places  of  refuge  for  villagers  when  attacked  by  hostile 
clans.  The  village  houses  are  all  little  flat  huts  of  stone,  laid 
without  mortar,  and  roofed  over  with  flags  on  which  dirt  and  turf 
is  spread.  I  went  into  some  of  them,  a  few  kopecks  given  to  the 
children  winning  the  mother's  heart.  They  were  mere  man-sta- 
bles. A  bench  or  two  and  a  shelf — dirty  and  smoky,  and  stink- 
ing from  the  smell  of  the  cow-coal  which  is  stacked  in  and  about 
them.  They  have  no  chimneys,  the  smoke  from  the  stinking 
fuel  blacking  the  walls.  From  Dariel  Gorge  up  to  and  for  a  sta- 
tion or  two  beyond  the  summit,  there  are  no  trees,  and  the  other 


I       \ 


OLD  TOWERS.     FIXE  ROCKS. 


409 


fuel  cut  into  blocks  or  flattened  in  cakes  is  the  only  one.  We 
saw  an  old  man  carrying  an  armful  of  this,  not  over-dry,  on  his 
left  arm,  whil^  under  his  right  were  a  couple  of  loaves  of  black 
bread.  I  asked  myself  the  question  ;  "After  all,  what  is  dirt? 
Is  it  not  simply  a  sentiment  or  a  conventionalism  ?  "  At  the  sta- 
tion below  the  summit  a  side  stream  came  down  from  quite  a 
valley.  In  the  junction  of  the  two  streams,  and  quite  among 
the  huts  of  the  small  village,  is  a  little  graveyard.  There  was  a 
peculiar  smell  in  it.  I  was  unable  to  decide  whether  it  was  from 
a  dead  man  or  a  dead  rat.  Tliey  to  me  are  nearly  the  same. 
Being  curious,  I  looked  closely,  but  could  not  sec  the  rat  ;  there 
was,  howevei',  a  little,  rough  stone-pile  over  a  grave  not  long 
made,  and  a  rat  or  a  bad-smelling  ghost  may  have  been  among 
the  loose  stones. 

Over  the  same  village  is  an  enormous  precipice,  hundreds  of 
feet  high,  and  jutting  over.     The  under  half  of  it  is  composed  of 
basaltic  columns,  laid  i!at,  the  ends  forming  the  wall.     It  resem- 
bled a  vast   pile  of  oddly-hewn  timbers,  seen  at  the  ends  ;  over 
some  feet  of  it  were  the  cow-cakes  drying — a  heroic  filth-dryer. 
The  whole   pass  would   be  a  charming  place  for  a  geologist  to 
study  ;  the  rock  formations  are  so  peculiar  and  of  so  many  vari- 
eties ;    great  cliffs,  a   mile  long,   looking  like  Titanic  heaps  of 
chocolate  ;    trapite   cliffs   and   basaltic   colonnades,   metamorphic 
rocks  in  vertical   sections,  dark  and  shiny  ;  granite  shoving  into, 
and    now  and  then  bursting  through,  the  overlying  rocks.     The 
gradations   of   heat    through   which   these   several  rocks  passed 
is  so  distinct   and  marked  that   I  should  think  a  scientific  man 
would  find  them  a  valuable  book  to  read.     The  distance  between 
the  last  northern  station  and  the  summit  was  made  over  a  beau- 
tifully winding  road,  bending  and  doubling  again  and  again  over 
itself.     We  were  among  snowdrifts  of  last  winter,  or  of  late  slides, 
and  our  road  at  one  point  was  cut  through  a  solid  mass  of  white 
ice  10  to  15   feet  deep,  and  the  river,  now  a  little  mountain  tor- 
rent, often  ran  through  tunnels  of  its  own  cutting  under  acres  of 
hard  snow  which  will   not  melt   away  yet  for  a  month   or  more. 
Wiiite  Alpine  roses  and  a  purple  flower,  shaped  like  ;.  hj-acinth, 
were  spread  over  the   upper  somewhat  level  tracts.     Sometimes 
the  rose  of  pale  white,  lying  close  to  the  upland  meadows,  made 
them  look  as  if  covered  with  myriads  of  huge  snowflakcs.     The 
short  grass  wore  that  strange  emerald  green,  more  intense  even 
than  the  emerald  itself,  which  is  seen  nowhere  other  than  on  lofty 
places  where  the  summer's  sun  carries  the  snow  covering  quickly 
away.     At  a  little  under  8,000  feet  we  were  on  the  line  dividing 
Europe  and  Asia.     Suddenly  the  sky  just   over   us   darkened, 
lightnings  flashed,  and  thunder  rolled,  and  great  hail  stones  rat- 
tled on  our  lifted  carriage-top  and  made  our  horses  dash  madly 
on  and  down  the  steep  grade  for  a  short  distance,  where  we  halted 
for  the  night. 


4 


ij^n 


Am 


m 


'  ■)■ 


■I 


w  > 


I. 


17 


410 


A  RACE  WfTIl   THE  SUN. 


Two  clean  beds  and  two  cups  of  tea  and  broad  in  the  morninjT 
cost  us  one  rouble  and  35  kopecks,  or  say  60  odd  cents.  It  rained 
liard  during  the  niglit,  ami  a  heavy  fog  enveloped  our  mountain 
perch  when  we  awoke.  It,  however,  soon  lifted,  a!id  our  early 
ride  of  ten  miles  to  the  next  station  was  deliciously  exhilarating. 
We  had  to  go  down  a  narrow,  treeless  gorge,  adown  which  start- 
ing from  the  narrow  heights  above  a  stp-am  falls  with  great 
ra])iility.  Tile  roar  of  rushing  waters  came  up  from  far  below, 
althougii  the  head  of  the  stream  was  but  a  little  way  off  above 
us  ;  but  it  was  snow-fed,  ;,  id  ([uickly  filled.  A  bee  coulii  have 
flown  to  the  point  we  were  to  reach  by  a  flight  of  a  mile  or  less. 
We  ran  over  aixiut  eight  to  reach  it,  without  using  a  break  or 
having  our  linrse  once  bear  u])on  the  breeching.  We  used  but 
one  horse  o;i  this  stage  ;  his  only  dut\'  was  to  guiile  the  shafts. 
Winding  a'oout  a  perfect  graile.  he  trotted  rapidly,  while  we  saw 
our  roa  I  now  a  (juarter  of  a  mile  to  our  right,  then  loo  or  so  feet 
below,  ami  then  again  a  va\'  off  to  the  left.  At  one  point  four 
tracks  lay  visible  below  which  we  were  to  reach  in  succession  .after 
nian\'  a  beautiful  bend.  I  li.ive  been  over  Swiss  and  T)'rolean 
carriage-roads,  but  over  none  where  so  rapid  a  descent  was  made 
by  such  easy  and  regular  grade,  and  displaying  so  fine  engineer- 
ing. We  reached  the  Aragva  River,  down  whose  banks  we  were 
to  descend  for  a  long  distance.  Although  separated  by  only  a 
few  miles  from  the  northern  slope  of  the  great  backbone  of  the 
Caucasus,  we  were  not  only  on  Asiatic  soil  but  also  in  an  Asiatic 
clime.  The  difference  w.is  percejitible  to  the  senses  of  feeling 
and  of  sight.  Vegetation  took  a  ranke"  growth,  and  the  little 
mountain  crops  were  far  in  advance  of  those  at  much  lower  heights 
on  the  European  side  ;  and  the  snows  were  much  higher  up  the 
mountain,  and  were  soon  seen  only  in  the  loftiest  gorges.  Many 
flocks  of  sheep  and  herds  of  cattle  hung  upon  the  lofty,  grassy 
slopes,  and  wheat  was  at  first  green,  and  in  a  couple  of  hours 
knee-high.  The  green,  grassy  mountains  began  to  wear  a  few 
trees,  and  before  we  reached  this  station,  at  ten  o'clock,  were  cov- 
ered by  dense  woods  almost  as  luxuriant  as  one  sees  in  a  tropical 
land.  The  northern  side  of  the  mountains  was  of  rocky  gran- 
deur, and  in  the  distance  of  snowy  beauty.  This  is  soft,  verdant, 
and  flowery.  The  northern  side  held  us  in  wondering  awe  :  this 
lulls  us  into  dreamy  pleasure. 

After  a  delightful  day  and  a  half  at  the  station  mentioned  in 
the  beginning  of  this  chapter,  and  where,  thus  far,  it  was  written, 
we  resumed  our  drive,  and  at  the  station  below  left  the  river, 
which  made  a  long  bend  and  ran  up  a  beautiful  little  valley,  climb- 
ing the  mountains  through  masses  of  wild  roses — great  clumps 
10  to  15  feet  high  and  of  equal  diameter,  almost  solidly  covered 
with  flowers,  mostly  white,  but  some  of  a  very  pale  pink,  some  of 
them  climbing  20  to  30  feet  up  the  trees.  The  roses  peering  out 
from  among  the  glossy  leaves  of  the  wild  pear  were  very  pretty. 


/ 


TJIE  SOUTHERN  SLOPE  OE  THE  CAL  CASUS.      411 


I  suspect  this  is  tlic  origfinal  liomc-  of  tin-  pear.  Tlic  fruit,  yet 
^rrceti,  is  small  and  wooily  and  very  astrin^^'iit.  I  tried  ti)  j^et  our 
postilion,  by  si^n  lan^niaf^e,  to  tell  us  if  they  were  eaten  when 
ripe.  I  understood  his  si^ms  to  be  nef^ative.  There  was  also  wild 
hollyhoL-k,  bush  dwarfed,  tlower  lanje  and  yellow.  Is  not  this 
its  origin, d  home  ?  Alon<,f  the  whole  vallej-  are  wild  plums  rcsem- 
bliii^f  small  ^freen^fa<,'es,  There  arc  many  flowering-  shrubs,  and 
near  and  about  Tiflis  pomerrranates  are  bioomin;.,'  in  wild,  unfrc- 
(punteil  spots.  The  llor;>  of  the  whole  pass  is  abundant,  and 
many  of  the  specimens  vei)    Pine. 

Our  road,  after  leavinij  t'le  river,  ran  over  a  rounded,  moim- 
tainous  countr\',  topped  by  a  hi.L;h-roliin^r  farming-  land,  of  ^^ood 
soil,  red,  but  mixed  v  h  larii'  f;ravel,  niakin-.;-  plowin;,;  verj-  lieaxy. 
In  spite  of  this  thi-  ^round  was  broken  from  six  to  ten  inches. 
To  do  tliis,  eiji^ht  yoke  of  wxen  ami  buffalo  were  hitclied  to  the 
plow,  which  had  a  lonfj  wooden  share  fully  three  feet  Ion;^f,  laying 
the  glebe  so  perfectly  over  I  hat  not  a  spear  of  immss  or  weed  could 
be  ::een.  The  farmin<^  on  this  upland  was  cv.  i-llcnt,  and  the  crops 
o  wheat  and  rye  very  heavy.  In  the  centre  of  this  upland  of  a 
f'  w  miles*  diameter  is  the  old  Armenian  cit}-,  Duchet,  six  orri!4ht 
(eiituries  old,  and  once  the  capital  of  the  deorgiaii  province. 
Whether  these  Armenians  are  the  farmers  or  not  I  could  not 
learn  ;  if  so,  they  are  as  good  farmers  as  traders.  It  was  not  until 
lately  the\'  were  allowed  to  acquire  real  estate.  Rapiill}-,  by  ])ur- 
chase  or  mortgage,  they  are  getting  into  their  hands  much  of  the 
best  land  in  the  country.  The  Georgians  save  nothing.  They 
arc  vain,  and  love  show  and  dress,  and  mortgages  arc  easy  things 
to  make.  After  regaining  the  river,  having  made  some  16 
versts  across  country,  the  valley  was  wider  then  when  we  left  it, 
and  the  stream  spread  in  still  rapid  descent  over  a  broad,  shingly 
bottom.  Every  half  mile  or  so  there  were  little  mills  along  the 
bank,  queer  structures,  about  \2  by  i  5  feet,  and  not  over  eight 
feet  high,  with  flat  mud  roofs.  The  wheel,  not  over  six  or  eight 
feet  in  diameter,  turns  horizontally,  its  centre  beam  being  also 
the  spindle  for  the  stone.  The  stone  necessarily  revolves  rather 
slowly. 

Fourteen  miles  from  Tiflis  the  stream  we  had  been  descending 
emptied  into  the  Kur,  a  bold  river  which  cuts  its  narrow  chan- 
nel through  a  solid  rock,  and  flows  for  a  long  distance  in  a  canyon 
30  to  40  or  more  feet  deep.  At  the  junction  was  once  the  capital 
of  Georg-'a — the  rich  city  of  Mtskete,  now  a  little  village.  Tradi- 
tion carrii. .;  its  foundation  back  to  a  time  not  long  after  the  flood, 
and  history  tells  of  it  in  Roman  times.  We  passed  over  a  hand- 
some bridge,  built  Uj>an  the  foundations  of  a  structure  erected  by 
great  Pompcy,  at  the  feet  of  whose  statue  great  Ca;sar  fell ;  then 
running  under  lofty  rocks  or  over  a  pretty  valley,  with  some 
vineyards  of  the  grape  of  the  Caucasus,  we  reached  Tiflis,  the 
capital,  where  I  now  write.     We  have  been  more  than  usually 


M 


\% 


<>: 


412 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


i  '\ 


(f,     ' 


'^^ 


■\  I 


/ ; 


|i'7 


fortunate  in  our  trip.  We  had  beautiful  weather,  except  for  an 
hour  one  evening — I  am  told  an  unusual  thing,  for  it  is  rarely 
clear  two  days  at  a  time  in  these  inonntains.  We  have  now  boon 
here  four  days,  and  learned  that  just  behind  us  was  a  fearful 
storm,  carrying  away  much  of  the  road.  Willie  says  it  is  all  our 
luck.  He  is  almost  justified  in  the  assertion,  for,  excepting  a  few 
days  in  Constantinople,  we  have  not  been  interrupted  by  rain 
since  we  left  home. 

We  found  no  Transcaspian  permit  here,  and  no  message  from 
St.  Petersburg.  The  day  after  our  arrival  we  presented  ourselves 
at  the  palace  of  Prince  DondoukofY-Korsakoff,  governor-general 
of  Caucasia.  We  were  told  he  could  not  be  seen  until  the  next 
morning.  I  expressed  my  regret,  and  sent  up  our  cards  and  the 
letter  of  introduction  from  the  governor-general  of  Moscow,  and 
asked  the  attendant  to  deliver  them  as  soon  as  possible.  Before 
we  had  time  to  quit  the  palace  he  returned  and  motioned  us  to 
ascend.  We  were  ushered  in  without  ceremony.  There  was  no 
retinue  or  aides.  The  governor  was  alone,  seated  at  a  working- 
table.  Rather  gruffly  lie  demanded  our  wishes.  I  explained. 
He  said  the  whole  thing  had  to  come  from  the  war  departn'.'Mit. 
and  that  no  message  had  been  sent  him  on  the  subject.  I  told 
him  in  French  what  our  minister  had  written  me  at  Moscow,  antl 
that  I  had  again  written  him  to  telegraph  the  permit  to  his  excel- 
lency, and  that  I  could  account  for  the  fact  of  none  having 
come  only  by  the  departure  from  St.  Petersburg  of  Mr.  Lothrop 
the  very  day  I  hail  written.  I  told  him  that  we  in  America  saw 
Russia  and  her  advances  into  Asia  to  a  great  e.xtent  through 
English  mediums;  that  I  had  come  to  the  country  prejudice;! 
against  it,  and  that  already  much  of  this  prejudice  had  been  re- 
moved. I  spoke  so  rapidly  that  politeness  forced  the  prince  to 
listen.  It  was  well,  for  his  countenance  softened,  and  in  i)retty 
good  English  he  said,  when  I  showed  a  disposition  to  leave  : 
"  Sit  down,  please,"  and  then  told  me  that  up  to  lately  the 
Transcaspian  country  had  been  under  his  jurisdiction,  but  was 
now  no  longer,  but  he  would  at  once  telegraph  to  the  Minister 
of  War,  Vanovsky,  for  a  ])ermit.  He  said  he  would  like  me  to 
go  to  Samarcand,  but  feared  1  would  find  it  excessively  hot;  that 
he  had  a  sunstroke  there  years  ago,  from  which  he  had  never 
entirely  recovered.  He  then  offered  a  cigarette,  and  when  we 
again  rose  to  leave  he  got  up,  saying  he  wished  to  show  us  some- 
thing. He  took  us  into  his  cabinet  of  curiosities,  a  very  large 
and  valuable  collection — arms  of  man)-  sorts,  old  vases  and  an- 
tiquities picked  up  in  the  mountains;  exquisite  rugs,  beautifully 
carved  furniture,  etc., — all  of  his  own  gathering  during  his  many 
years  in  this  country — 40  odd,  I  think — and  several  while  in 
his  present  position.  He  told  me  he  was  70.  I  said  he 
certainly  had  taken  good  care  of  himself.  He  laughed  and 
showed  me  his  left  hand,  all  crippled  up   with  a  wound,  and 


V      \ 


PRINCE  DONDOUKOFF.KORSAKOFF. 


413 


pointed  to  his  leg,  which  had  been  broken  in  battle,  to  a  wound 
in  his  shoulder  and  another  in  his  side.  In  fact,  the  old  general 
was  a  weather-beaten  and  war-stricken  soldier ;  had  fought  in 
many  a  battle,  and  assisted  in  all  of  the  victories  won  by  the 
Russians  for  many  years.  He  then  carried  us  through  all  of  the 
state-rooms  of  this  splendid  palace,  which  was  built  by  the  Grand 
Duke  Michael  when  governor.  The  prince's  particular  hobby 
just  now  is  the  founding  of  a  historical,  military  museum  of 
the  Caucasus  country  ;  its  arms  through  all  ages,  portraits,  when 
possible,  of  its  great  men,  and  all  illustrated  by  very  large  battle 
pieces,  in  one  or  two  of  which  he  himself  was  a  figure.  These 
latter  are  now  around  the  large  room  in  the  palace,  and  were 
really  very  good.  Passing  through  the  splendid  rooms  and  upon 
a  balcony  to  look  at  the  large,  handsome  garden,  I  remarked 
he  certainly  had  a  splendid  palace  to  live  in.  He  answered  with 
a  smile  and  a  sigh  ;  "  Yes,  to  show  to  tra\'cllers,"  adding  that  he 
was  alone,  had  lost  his  wife  a  year  ago.  His  voice  trembled  and 
won  my  sympathy.  He  kept  us  an  hour,  and  was  very  kind, 
several  times  laying  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder  when  he  wished 
to  direct  my  attention  to  some  particular  thing,  and  seeing  Willie 
examining  some  books  with  English  titles  on  the  Caucasus,  he  told 
him  to  take  some  of  them  to  the  hotel  to  read  and  to  bring  them 
back  himself,  thereby  inviting  him  to  return.  When  he  gets  an 
answer  to  his  telegram  he  promised  to  notify  me.  The  weather- 
stained  old  warrior  has  helped  to  rub  down  some  more  of  my 
anti-Russian  prejudice. 

Tiflis  is  an  interesting  city,  with  a  population  of  largely  over 
100.000.  Twenty-four  thousand  Georgians,  35,000  to  40.000 
Armenians,  30,000  Russians,  and  several  thousand  Germans. 
These  latter  settled  here  as  refugees  from  Wurtemburg  long  ago, 
to  avoid  religious  persecution.  They  speak  Russian  and  are  loyal 
to  Russia,  but  the  "  colony,"  as  the  German  quarter  is  called, 
shows  their  Teutonic  characteristics,  namely:  neatness,  thrift, 
and  comfort  about  their  homes.  The  long  main  street  in  their 
colony  is  lined  with  shade-trees,  mostly  lindens,  and  now  deli- 
ciously  fragrant  ;  fine  gardens,  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  fruit- 
trees  and  vineyards,  give  their  residences  a  charming,  home-like 
aspect.  Seeing  a  nice  frau  and  fraulein  promenading  in  one  of 
these  grounds,  we  were  sorely  tempted  to  go  in  and  introduce 
ourselves.  I  understand  that  while  thoroughly  true  to  the  gov- 
erriment  these  deutschen  do  not  love  the  Russians.  The  Armen- 
ians arc  the  real  business  men  of  the  place,  and  control  the  bulk 
of  its  wealth.  They  care  not  for  nationality,  but  adhere  strictly 
to  their  religion  and  to  their  commercial  avocations.  They  and 
the  Russians  live  and  commingle  in  their  residences  and  society. 
There  is  little  difference  between  them  and  their  costumes.  The 
Georgians  are  all  of  the  Greek  church,  and  hold  many  offices,  as, 
I  believe  the  Armenians  do  also.    The  wealth  of  the  latter  gives 


! 


^ 


4'4 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\l 


if  I 


:n 


IK1 


\ii 


7 


them  great  influence  in  the  country.  They  are  beginning  to  own 
its  best  farms  and  populate  many  of  its  best  towns  and  villages. 
The  Georgians,  to  a  great  extent,  wear  their  own  picturesque 
costume  of  conical  astrachan  caps,  long  robes  gathered  at  the 
waist  by  a  silver  belt,  with  a  double  row  of  cartridges  on  either 
breast,  and  long  dagger,  and  sometimes  sword,  with  pistols  at 
their  belts.  The  head-dress  of  a  majority  of  the  ladies  seen  on 
the  street  is  a  small,  stiff,  round  cap,  somewhat  lifting  from  the 
crown,  over  which  is  thrown  a  large  silk  or  lace  handkerchief  tied 
under  the  chin,  generally  of  heavy  figured  white — sometimes  of 
bright  color — and  under  this  a  rather  long  lace  veil  hanging  be- 
hind. It  is  very  becoming,  having  much  the  same  effect  upon 
the  face  as  a  Spanish  mantilla.  It  is  certainly  far  prettier  than 
the  bonnet  of  French  fashion  worn  by  others. 

Again  I  am  forced  to  say  that  French  fashions,  while  stylish, 
are  conventionally  pretty,  but  are  generally  artistically  damnable. 
Of  all  the  villainous  tyrannies  ever  oppressing  a  cringing  world, 
the  tyranny  of  French  fashion  is  the  most  detestable.  Statesmen 
and  patriots  rail  at  the  tyranny  of  kings,  emperors,  and  sultans, 
but  I  honestly  believe  that  the  tyranny  of  Queen  Fashion  is 
to-day  doing  more  harm  in  Christendom  than  all  the  sultans  and 
despots  of  the  East  do  in  their  own  lands.  Its  chan<^ing  whims 
breed  extravagance  and  waste  ;  it  destroys  the  health  of  women, 
kills  babies,  and  sends  men  into  the  world  deformed  and  but  half 
made  up. 

One  can,  in  a  few  hours  walk  in  Tifhs,  see  as  great  contrasts  in 
nationalities  as  in  any  other  city  we  have  yet  visited.  One  local- 
ity is  modern  European,  with  Amcric.m  open  fronts  and  French 
styles ;  another  old  German  ;  a  third  is  thoroughly  Persian  a 
fourth  simply  and  purely  Asiatic.  In  the  latter  two  one  sees 
Tartars,  Bulgarians,  laboring  Georgians,  men  in  high  Persian 
caps,  and  men  with  sheepskin  caps  as  big  as  half-bushel  baskets. 
In  them  men  sit  cross-legged  or  on  their  haunches  in  and  before 
their  little  shops,  doing  all  sorts  of  mechanical  labor,  and  the 
streets  are  redolent  with  that  peculiar  odor  which  pervades  the 
mighty  East.  This  odor  is  as  peculiar  and  distinct  as  the  smell 
of  a  wet  dog,  and  as  indescribable.  One  recognizes  it  at  once, 
but  no  one  can  enable  another  by  description  to  even  guess  how 
it  is,  or  what  it  is. 

The  city  lies  on  either  bank  of  the  Kur  River  on  a  narrow, 
sloping  valley,  with  low  mountains,  barren,  treeless,  and  generally 
brown,  but  at  this  season  moderately  clothed  with  thin  grass,  be- 
hind the  town  on  each  side.  The  river  runs  through  it  in  a  narrow 
channel  cut  deep  down  into  the  rock.  At  one  point  for  half  a 
mile  or  more  this  rock  lifts  in  a  precipice  over  icx)  feet  high.  Back 
of  this  is  the  old  Asiatic  city.  On  it  the  rear  of  houses  rise  sheer 
with  the  cliff,  some  of  them  of  two  or  three  stories.  Many  of 
them  have  balconies  hanging  several  feet  over  the  water  rushing 


local 


TIFLIS  A  PRETTY  CITY. 


\\ 


415 


far  below.  From  these  one  sees  people  emptying  rubbish  into 
the  river,  and  drawing  water  with  a  bucket  and  long  rope.  All 
sorts  of  rubbish  and  filth  arc  thrown  into  the  river  from  the 
banks,  or  from  the  several  bridges  which  span  the  narrow  stream. 
The  water  is  thickly  muddy,  and  richly  yellow  in  color;  it  rushes 
under  its  steep  banks  with  great  speed — boiling,  eddying,  and 
tumbling — reminding  me  i.,.uch  of  the  Frazer  in  its  canyons.  So 
even  and  regular  is  its  surging  flow  that  it  wears  a  rather  majestic 
look,  though  its  width  is  sometimes  under  icx)  feet,  and  nowhere 
over  300.  Mills  are  strung  along  under  the  bank  in  one  quarter  of 
the  town  on  a  sort  of  floats  or  keels.  Their  large  wheels  are 
rapidly  turned  by  the  natural  current.  I  counted  eleven  of  these, 
one  after  another,  before  the  stream  bent  and  was  hidden  from 
view.  The  city  has  a  good  street-railway  and  a  water-supply, 
with  a  very  strong  head  at  the  street  hydrants.  There  are  fine, 
hot  mineral  baths  close  by.  I  think  the  name  of  the  town  means 
"  bath  place."  liut  how  we  do  revel  in  the  delicious  cherries, — 
great,  black,  luscious  and  pulpy  fruit,  as  solid  as  peach  flesh; 
otiiers  are  pink,  sub-acid  and  delightful ;  still  others,  equally 
large,  are  of  a  slightly  yellowish  white.  There  are  also  good 
apricots  and  plums.  The  Germans  in  the  town  and  in  some  vil- 
lages near  by  are  the  gardeners.  To  them,  too,  is  owed  largely 
the  grape  and  its  product,  a  really  delightful,  fruity,  rich  wine, 
both  white  and  deep  red. 

The  Georgians  claim  a  very  early  Christianity,  from  the  time  of 
the  earliest  Christian  emperors,  when  it  was  a  Roman  province. 
They  are  a  fine-looking  race,  very  fair,  straight,  and  slender. 
They  hate  the  Armenians,  call  them  thieves,  etc.  They  are  them- 
selves very  improvident,  save  nothing,  are  heavily  mortgaged  to 
the  Armenians,  and  hate  them  accordingly.  I  have  seen  nothing 
yet  to  justify  the  reputation  of  the  women  for  great  beauty.  A 
peep  in  Constantinople  under  a  Turkish  yashmak  and  youthful 
ardor  and  imagination  have  contributed  more,  I  suspect,  for 
their  great  reputation  than  nature  has  done.  A  dark  eye  and 
a  white  forehead  seen  from  behind  a  veil  enables  a  fervid  imagi- 
nation to  fashion  a  beauty  which  a  fully  revealed  face  would  not 
bear  out.  A  FVench  modiste  knows  this  part  of  man's  nature, 
and  she  does  more  by  permitting  a  peep  or  a  glimpse  to  allure  us 
susceptible  bipeds  than  Eve  ever  does  in  the  East  by  adopting 
nature's  simple  uncovering.  The  Russians  have  struggled  hard  to 
stop  the  trade  in  girls  for  the  Turkish  harem,  but  an  intelligent 
Georgian  told  me  it  was  still  carried  on  to  a  limited  extent,  but 
insisted  it  existed  only  upon  the  mountains  near  the  Black  Sea, 
and  not  in  his  part  of  the  country.  But,  after  all,  is  the  hatred  of 
the  thing  not  sickly  sentimentality?  A  handsome  girl  is  sold  to 
a  Turk— she  becomes  his  wife — and  her  parents  from  her  price  in 
their  old  age  have  some  comforts.  Left  here,  she  and  they  live 
like  pigs  in  a  sty.      The  girls  do  not  go  as  unwilling  slaves,  or. 


I 


s 


'■'.  * 
V 


11 

;|p| 

1,       ' 


I' 


HP. 


4i6 


A  RACJ£  WITH  THE  SUN. 


)V 


P't  i'r" 


s\ 


at  least,  not  more  so  than  many  a  beauty  at  home,  who  marches 
grandly  up  the  church  aisle  to  the  wedding  march,  smothered  in 
orange  blossoms  and  lace,  and  is  given  by  prudent  pater-familias 
to  some  rich  roiu'  or  half-made-up  Dives.  It  is  not  in  Georgia  and 
Circassia  alone  that  warm  young  hearts  arc  turned  to  stone  for 
the  sweet  privilege  of  treading  on  soft.  Oriental  carpets,  and  sip- 
ping tea  in  egg-shell  china,  and  eating  from  silvered  plate.  Kings 
and  emperors  would  suppress  the  selling  of  slave  girls,  and  yet 
their  own  wives,  daughters,  and  sisters  are  a  species  of  princely 
merchandise.  Not  far  from  the  Baltic  there  are  royal  studs 
where  princesses  are  bred  and  regularly  trotted  out  and  right 
royally  sold.  The  thing  is  called  state  alliances.  Following  these 
are  those  shining  examples  for  common  folks  to  follow,  such  as 
Milan's  platonic  flirtations  with  actresses,  crown  princesses  drink- 
ing many  waters  while  their  husband:;  dissipate  in  pastures  green, 
and  imperial  morganatic  widows  the  leaders  at  Nice,  etc.,  etc. 
Bah !  the  slave  trade  in  girls  has  been  partially  suppressed  under 
these  grand  mountains,  but  it  is  still  rife  in  princely  palaces  in 
Belgravia,  and  possibly  in  fashionable  American  society,  and  is  of 
a  beastly  character  in  London  purlieus. 


!i! 


IM 


•<     I 


(   , 


'  I  i 


CHAPTER  XL. 


THE   CASPIAN    SEA  — BAKU    AND    ITS    MARVELLOUS    OIL    WELLS  — 

PETROLEUM    AS   A    FUEL— BALAKMANA— A   BURNING 

SEA— NATURAL   GAS. 

Steamship,  Caspian  Sea,  yune  30//;. 

I  COMMENCE  this  on  the  Caspian.  There  is  a  small  sea  coming 
from  the  cast ;  still  our  ship  of  only  300  tons,  lies  directly  in  the 
trough,  and  rocks  like  a  cradle.  Many  of  the  deck  passengers,  of 
whom  there  are  about  lOO— Persians,  Tartars,  Georgians,  and 
Russians— are  paying  their  awful  tribute  to  old  Neptune,  and  our 
only  Oriental  first  class  passenger,  a  fat,  greasy,  and  in  every  way 
disgusting  looking  Persian,  is  heaving  and  retching,  as  if  he  would 
pull  the  sole  of  his  foot  up  through  his  stomach,  just  at  the 
bottom  of  the  gangway  and  under  the  deck  cabin  in  which  I,  with 
difficulty,  write.  Willie  suggests  that  we  throw  the  fat  Persian 
overboard  as  the  Jonah  that  causes  our  ship  to  roll  when  there  is 
no  wind  blowing,  but  it  is  at  once  voted  that  he  cannot  be  of  the 
family  of  the  original  live  bait,  and,  therefore,  would  not,  as  the 
one  of  old  did,  appease  the  god  of  waves,  for  no  whale  could  keep 
this  greasy  old  chap  down  for  a  half-hour. 

I  look  out  of  our  windows  upon  this  great  inland  sea.  It  is  a 
mass  of  rolling  green — not  the  slightest  tinge  of  blue  in  its  deep 
waters — and  I  am  told  that,  even  where  it  is  400  fathoms  deep,  it 
has  the  same  grass-green  hue  as  here.  The  Russian  fathom  has 
seven  feet.  This  mighty  sea  is  about  700  miles  long  and  about 
200  in  width.  It  lies  in  its  isolated  bed  89  to  90  feet  below  the 
surface  of  the  Black  Sea.  Its  waters  are  dense  and  bitter,  but 
have  only  three  per  cent,  of  salt,  whereas  the  Atlantic  has  about 
five.  We  took  a  swim  in  it  at  Baku,  and  found  the  water  very 
soft,  perhaps  more  so  than  elsewhere,  for  there  millions  of  gal- 
lons of  petroleum  washings  escape  into  it  daily.  It  looked  clean, 
however,  with  now  and  then  some  rainbow  tints  thrown  off  from 
filmy  patches  of  oil  floating  upon  the  surface.  A  sail  is  never  out 
of  sight ;  over  5,000  belong  to  this  sea.  Most  of  them  are  engaged 
in  fishing,  for  it  teems  with  fish. — some  of  them  of  delicious  flavor. 
Twertv-two  thousand  men  are  employed  in  the  business  on  this 
sea,  e.vclusiveof  a  still  larger  number  on  the  Volga,  and  the  catch 
is  over  350,000  tons,  a  large  amount  being  taken  for  the  roe  alone, 
for  the  manufacture  of  the  celebrated  caviar.     This  peculiar  Rus- 

417 


liiiVfl 


j,i^ 


4i8 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


'«f| 


*■"< 


"  1. 


sian  food  is  exported  to  all  parts  of  the  world,  but  only  those  who 
visit  southern  Russia  and  taste  it  when  fresh  can  have  any  idea 
of  how  delicious  it  is. 

I  look  toward  the  left  over  wild  Daghesten,  and  towering  above 
is  the  snowclad  range  of  the  Caucasus,  great  masses  of  broken 
mountains,  some  of  them  glistening  with  eternal  snows,  smooth 
and  burnished.  Among  these,  more  or  less  near  the  Caspian,  are 
the  deep  valleys  and  lofty  fastnesses  in  which  Schamyl  so  long  bid 
defiance  to  the  Russian  power.  Among  the  historic  paintings  now 
being  executed  for  Prince  Dondoukoff-Korsakofif  for  his  museum 
is  one  representing  the  surrender  of  this  great  mountain  chief. 
The  motive  of  the  picture  is  peculiar,  and,  I  believe,  unique.  The 
Russian  artist  depicts  Schamyl  in  sullen  disgust,  his  face  averted, 
and  holding  a  sword  as  if  saving:  "  Here  it  is,  hacked  and  worn. 
I  have  fought  you  for  years,  for  I  hated  you,  and  hate  you  still, 
but  my  old  weapon  is  no  longer  edged  and  sharp  ;  take  it.  I  can- 
not hand  it  to  you  !  "  I  mentioned  this  to  the  prince.  He  re- 
plied :  "  It  was  historically  true  " 

We  were  five  days  in  Tiflis,  and  were  not  wearied  of  it.  It  is 
really  a  charming  city,  has  some  very  pretty  gardens,  and  very 
fine  views,  and  presents  decided  ami  marked  types  of  people. 
In  it  one  can  study  central  Asiatic  peoples  most  advantageously, 
for,  while  in  close  juxtaposition,  each  maintains  its  tribal  charac- 
teristics as  thoroughly  as  if  isolated  by  long  distance-.  In  one 
q..arter  one  is  in  Persia  among  men  of  a  delicate  type,  wearing 
rather  long  hair,  soft  as  silk  and  black,  but  dyed  with  a  slightly 
logwood-tint,  and  covered  by  tall,  straight  caps.  In  another  he 
is  surrounded  by  Tartars  and  Bucharians  of  strong  features,  of 
wild  Mongol  cast,  in  rough,  coarse  garments,  and  wearing  huge, 
rounded  caps,  a  foot  to  a  foot  and  a  half  in  diameter,  of  heavily- 
AvooUed  sheepskin.  In  another  Armenian  thrift  and  sharpness 
meet  the  view  at  every  turn.  In  still  others  there  is  the  light 
and  cheerful  Georgian,  living  in  the  sunshine  of  to-day,  and  care- 
less of  what  the  morrow  may  bring.  Besides  these  there  is  the 
clean  and  home-like  German  colony,  and  scattered  everywhere 
Russians,  who  mingle  freely  with  all,  and  arc  slowly  but  surely 
russianizing  all.  If  they  be  as  slow  in  every  thing  cUe,  however, 
as  they  are  in  their  red-tape  official  actions,  their  progress  will 
not  be  rapid.  For  example,  Mr.  Lothrop,  our  Minister  at  St. 
Petersburg,  wrote  me  on  the  8th  of  June  that  he  had  applied  for 
a  permit  for  me  to  go  to  Samarcand.  On  the  loth  he  wrote  again 
that  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  had  applied  to  the  War  De- 
partment, where  the  matter  belonged,  and  that  I  would  receive 
it  in  two  or  three  days.  The  governor-general  of  Caucasus  tele- 
graphed to  the  War  Department  for  it,  saying  to  me  it  would 
certai-  !y  come  in  one  or  two  days.  I  then  received  a  letter  from 
our  legation,  dated  the  15th,  informing  me  that  the  War  Depart- 
ment had  promised  to  send  it  at   once.     On  the  26th,  11   days 


\i.   I  I 


t      I 


ii 


PARTING  VISIT  TO  THE  PRINCE. 


419 


after  the  date  of  that  letter,  and  18  after  the  first  apphcation, 
nothing  coming,  I  became  disgusted  and  resolved  to  abandon  the 
trip,  and  drew  money  to  carry  us  to  Nijni  Novgorod,  by  the 
Volga  route. 

We  then  called  upon  the  prince  to  thank  him  for  his  kindness, 
and  to  pay  our  parting  compliments.  The  brave  old  soldier  re- 
ceived us  most  kindly,  and  seemed  chagrined  that  he  had  received 
no  reply  to  his  telegram.  He  was  alone  and  entertained  us  for 
more  than  an  hour  on  a  balcony  overlooking  the  palace  garden, 
where  tea  and  wine  were  served.  His  manner  has  the  simplicity 
of  an  old  soldier,  and  his  conversation  is  tl'.oroughly  free  and 
easy.  I  was  enabled  to  learn  something  of  Russian  ideas  and 
management,  looking  through  the  eyes  of  one  of  the  governing 
powers,  and  not  of  the  governed.  For  he  is  the  governor  of  the 
whole  of  Caucasus,  is  a  member  of  the  Imperial  council,  and  has 
a  vice-regal  power  over  the  governors  of  the  several  Caucasian 
provinces.  He  is  a  blunt,  plain,  and  rather  outspoken  man,  in 
his  manner  very  democratic,  and,  though  70,  is  active  and  full  of 
life.  He  gave  me  his  photo,  and  to  Willie  the  letter  of  Prince 
Dolgoroukoff  introducing  us,  with  some  kind  words  written 
in  it  by  himself.  With  the  hope  that  we  would  see  Russia  as 
thoroughly  as  possible,  through  our  American  eyes,  and  not 
through  those  of  the  Knglish,  he  wished  us  all  good  things,  and 
.saw  us  to  door  of  the  outer  hall.  Thus,  by  the  simple  claim  of 
American  sovereignty,  we  have  received  most  kindly  treatment 
from  two  of  the  great  rulers  of  this  mighty  land,  and  one  of 
them,  at  least,  won  from  us  a  warm  and  kindly  sympathy,  I  be- 
lieve not  misplaced,  though  he  be  one  of  the  lords  of  the  earth. 
Remarking  that  on  our  visits  the  prince  was  alone,  I  congratulated 
him  upon  the  apparent  happiness  of  the  people  I  had  met  in  his 
province,  but  that  I  feared  he  himself  was  somewhat  isolated. 
He  said  yes,  that  he  felt  he  could  not  stand  it  much  longer,  that 
he  had  lost  his  poor  wife,  and  two  of  his  closest  friends  within 
a  /car  ;  that  his  eldest  son  was  compelled  to  be  with  his  regi- 
ment, and  his  other  was  in  the  navy.  He  was  thus  alone,  and 
could  hardly  stand  it.  The  world  thinks  that  all  is  bright  and 
gorgeous  among  the  great  ones  of  the  earth,  but  there  is  as 
much  sadness  and  lonely-weariness  in  the  gilded  halls  of  a 
palace  as  in  the  humblest  cottage  ;  and,  indeed,  probably  more, 
for  the  comparison  between  the  days  of  pampered  indulgence 
and  lu.xury,  and  the  moments  of  solitude  and  sorrow  makes 
the  latter  more  bitter  than  is  the  sorrow  of  the  lowly,  who  are 
educated  to  endure. 

At  midnight  we  took  the  train  for  Baku,  the  great  petroleum 
centre  of  Russia.  At  daylight  we  were  in  a  broad,  flat  valley, 
lying  between  the  greater  and  the  lesser  Caucasus  mountains, 
the' latter,  to  our  south,  lifted,  not  far  off,  I2,CXX)  or  more  feet, 
and  was  clothed    in    snow.      In    the    far    distance    over    them 


n 


420 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


y  1 


I 


I 


ii 


t 

'  t' 
A  ■ 


i;'/ 


li'    ,<  / 


h 


1  i '. 


/ 


1,(1 


were  others.  I  saw  sharp,  conical,  burnished  peaks  in  the  far- 
off  which  I  took  to  be  Ararat.  His  peaks  are  very  precipitous 
and  difificiilt  of  climbing.  I  could  not  help  thinkin<j  what  a  hard 
time  the  mighty  line  of  living  things  had  when  marching  by 
twos,  male  and  female,  from  these  cold,  bleak  heights  down  into 
the  plains  below  after  the  great  flood  had  subsided  ;  and  what  a 
time  good  old  Noah  must  have  had  to  keep  some  of  his  warm- 
blooded pets  from  freezing  on  that  lofty  l6,ooo  feet  high  pin- 
nacle. Noah's  ark,  with  its  countless  denizens,  was  always  to  me 
harder  to  swallow  even  than  Jonah's  three-days'  sojourn  in  the 
whale's  belly.  What  a  pity  our  theologians  do  not  boldly  preach 
that  the  Bible  is  a  mighty  system  of  truth,  but  that  its  truths 
come  to  us  clothed  in  Oriental  legend  and  fable — that  the  truth 
is  there,  pure  and  undefiled,  as  the  grain  is  pure  and  uncontam- 
inated  by  the  chaff  in  which  it  is  housed — instead  of  trying  to 
make  a  reasoning  world  swallow  the  chaff  for  solid  k'Tuels.  Then 
many  a  thinking  man,  who,  finding  himself  choked  by  the  husks 
and  hulls,  throws  out  the  whole,  grain  and  all,  would  learn  to  see 
the  grand  truths  abundant  and  rich,  like  the  golden  wheat  in  the 
dun  and  dusty  straw. 

For  countless  ages  God's  truths  were  handed  down  from  mouth 
to  mouth,  and  to  enable  memory  more  readily  to  hold  them  were 
clothed  in  poetic  figures  and  Oriental  hyperbole.  The  Asiatic 
husbandman  holds  his  trodden  harvest  aloft,  and  as  it  falls  the 
clear  wind  of  heaven  blows  away  the  chaff,  and  the  grain  falls 
below  as  food  for  man.  So  the  biblical  husbandman  should  hold 
aloft  the  mass  which  has  come  down  through  countless  ages  of  tradi- 
tion, and  let  the  pure  breath  of  reason  fan  away  the  broken 
chaff,  and  leave  the  kernels  of  God's  mighty  truths  to  fall  into 
the  mouths  of  hungry  and  famishing  seekers  for  the  veritable  and 
the  pure.  To  one  who  runs  with  the  sun  and  sees  the  myriads 
of  the  vast  East  bowing  down  in  earnest  worship  of  their  mani- 
fold conceptions  of  the  great  ruler  of  the  destinies  of  man,  and 
studiously  strives  to  peep  througli  the  crevices  left  by  countless 
superstitions,  and  to  brush  away  the  metaphors  and  figures  of 
Oriental  poesy,  there  comes  the  dazzling  brightness  of  the  eter- 
nal— the  one  unknown  and  unknowable  God,  whose  revelation 
lives  and  burns  in  every  man's  heart,  which  can  never  lead  him 
widely  astray,  if  he  resolutely  does  unto  others  what  he  would 
they  should  do  unto  him. 

The  valley  of  the  Kur,  below  Tiflis,  is  settled  principally  by 
Tartars.  We  saw  many  of  their  villages  of  low  huts,  and  some 
temporary  villages  of  tents,  where  they  live  while  gathering  crops 
distant  from  their  permanent  homes.  They  are  a  hardy  set  of 
fellows,  are  first-class  workers,  and  command  one's  respect  by  do- 
ing men's  work  by  men,  and  not  forcing  women  to  do  her  own 
and  her  lord's  duty  to  boot.  They  are  all  Mohammedans,  and  as 
such  the  women's  faces  are  concealed,  even  those  of  the  humblest ; 


TARTARS.     ST  A  TION  REST  A  URANTS. 


421 


but  I  am  told  there  is  a  growing  relaxation  of  the  rule  among 
them  when  there  are  Russian  neighbors,  who  become  somewhat 
intimate  with  the  men.  We  saw  a  number  of  groups  of  women 
with  their  little  children  squatted  not  far  from  the  road,  with  a 
band  of  cloth  drawn  across  the  upper  face,  and  another  on  the 
lower  part,  permitting  tlie  eyes  alone  to  be  seen.  The  men  all 
wear  huge  sheepskin  caps,  spreading  very  wide  at  the  bottom, 
and  slightly  tapering  and  rounding  off  at  the  top,  and  nearly  as 
large  as  a  half-bushel  measure.  They  wear  these  winter  and  sum- 
mer. They  cut  or  shear  the  head,  some,  however,  retaining,  like 
the  Persians,  a  large  lock  about  the  ears.  The  face  is  full-bearded, 
the  beard  often  dyed  to  a  rich  red.  The  Persians,  by  tue  way,  as 
far  as  we  have  observed,  or  at  least  many  do,  dye  the  hair  to  a 
soft  reddish-black,  and  many  of  them  shave  the  beard,  but  leave 
a  full  mustache.  The  Tartars  are  not  only  the  farmers  of  this 
part  of  the  world,  but  the  hard  day  laborers  and  railroad  workers. 
We  are  informed  they  are  steady  and  industrious.  At  Baku  all 
of  the  drosky  drivers,  teamsters,  and  the  bulk  of  the  laborers 
generally  are  of  these  people.  They  seem  cheerful,  manly,  good- 
natured,  and  independent.  They  look  a  man  fearlessly  in  the 
face,  and  are  not  afraid  to  maintain  their  rights  against  even  a 
Russian  officer,  and  would  return  a  blow  for  a  blow  with  any 
man. 

The  mountains,  both  north  and  south,  as  seen  from  the  Kur 
valley,  are  brown  and  nearly  treeless,  and  before  reaching  the 
sea,  were  as  bleak  and  desolate  as  those  of  Kgypt.  The  plain  is 
thin  in  soil,  but  I  am  told  the  wheat  produced  is  of  a  very  fine 
quality.  Irrigation  is  necessary  for  st(  ad)'  crops,  for  the  rain  is 
not  regular,  and  near  the  sea  very  rare.  Much  of  the  valley 
plain  is  green  with  wild  licorice,  thousands  of  tons  being  annually 
exported.  It  is  a  low-growing,  weedy-looking  shrub.  This,  too, 
seems  the  original  home  of  the  asparagus,  much  of  it,  with  its 
spreading  top  of  red  berries,  being  seen  indigenous  along  the 
road.  Along  the  banks  of  the  Kur,  where  we  crossed  it,  are 
thickets  of  pomegranates,  15  feet  high,  bright  with  orange- 
red  flowers  ;  and  the  thick  wood,  covering  the  margin  for  a  few 
rods  along  the  now  overflowing  stream,  was  vocal  with  glorious 
feathered  songsters,  mostly  an  almost  black  thrush. 

Even  far  off  here,  where  we  at  home  suppose  every  thing  half 
savage,  nice  lunches  and  delicious  tea  are  to  be  had  at  many  of 
the  railroad  stations.  Our  railroad  managers  could  gain  much  by 
studying  more  the  comfort  of  their  passengers,  and  taking  lessons 
from  Russia  to  bring  it  about.  A  Russian  station  buffet  or 
dining-room  is  an  inviting  and  appetizing  place — a  long  counter, 
with  cool-looking-glass,  tumblers,  and  decanters,  polished  and 
bright  ;  a  great  glistening  urn  of  boiling  water,  and  the  daintiest 
of  teapots,  all  ready  for  a  cup  of  fresh  tea  ;  a  long  carving  table, 
with  huge  platters  warmed  by  gas  or  oil  burning  below,  and  with 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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a  whole  roasted  pi^,  a  mutton  roast,  and  sirloin  of  beef,  cutlets 
breaded  clean  ami  brown,  chickens  old  and  yoiinj:^ — not  swim- 
ming in  nasty  lard  ^ravy,  but  with  a  sauce  as  temi)tiiijj  as  one 
could  wish.  You  select  your  dishes,  and  sit  down  to  a  table  cov- 
ered with  a  cloth  as  white  as  snow,  a  napkin  fresh  and  clean, 
which  one  does  not  have  to  wear  out  scrubbing  flj'-specked  i)lates; 
good  beer  and  wine,  and  all  at  fixed  and  very  reasonable  prices, 
and  these,  too,  at  small  village  stations. 

Ikfore  reaching  Haku,  the  broken  low  mountains  by  the  sea 
were  absolutely  devoid  of  every  vestige  of  growth  ;  anil  1  had 
pointed  out  to  me  what  appeared  to  be  a  tall  sand-hill  dotted  over 
with  cones  from  4  or  5  up  to  20  feet  high.  These  are  little  vol- 
canoes thrown  up  by  escapes  of  gas  form  the  mighty  gasometer 
underlying  the  whole  country.  These  things,  iiowever,  did  not 
win  from  us  the  attention  which  we  gave  when  looking  out  ui)on 
the  great  sea,  tliat- far-off,  mighty  sea  of  Central  Asia.  When 
this  race  of  ours  with  the  sun  shall  have  ended,  I  fear  I  shall  have 
lost  one  of  my  sources  of  previous  enjoyment.  There  will  be 
but  few  spots  where  a  visit  can  be  possible  which  I  can  look  for- 
w.u'd  to  seeing  with  enthusiasm.  There  is  an  exquisite  pleasure 
in  the  first  view  of  something  much  dreamed  of  but  scarcely 
hoped  for.  The  Caspian  Sea  was  one  of  those  at  the  extremity 
of  my  ultima  tltiile.  The  sight  of  its  calm,  green  waters  was  ex- 
hilarating to  the  heart  as  the  cool,  fresh  sea  breeze  was  invigorat- 
ing to  the  cheek.  Immediatelv  about  Baku  the  hills  were  some- 
what  cultivated.  There  could  be  seen  several  large  Tartar  villages 
and  large  flocks  of  sheeii,and  herds  of  cattle  were  browsing  on  the 
fields  of  lately-harvested,  scant}-  grain.  Good  rains  would  make 
the  land  productive,  but  there  are  no  streams  or  hills  to  make 
irrigation  possible.  Wells  are  scattered  here  and  there — wells 
into  which  one  descends  by  lon^  flights  of  steps  to  meagre  pools 
20  to  50  feet  below  the  surface  ;  pools  into  which  the  water  seems 
to  ooze,  rather  than  flow,  and  so  shallow  that  one  can  .scarcely 
dip  a  handful  without  stirring  the  bottom,  yet  these  are  the 
sources  of  the  slightly  brackish  water  which  serves  for  men  and 
beasts.  The  country  has  everywhere  wastes  and  flats,  white  and 
sinooth  with  salt. 

When  we  alighted  at  the  station  at  Haku  a  uniformed  officer 
addressed  me  in  Russian,  asking  if  my  name  was  "  (iarrison." 
There  is  no  Russian  "  H,"  and  the  first  letter  of  my  name  is 
always  rendered  with  a  "  G."  A  bright  German  commercial 
traveller,  Mr.  Zigenfus,  a  fellow-voyager,  informed  mc  that  the 
ofificer  was  the  chief  of  police,  who  was  directed  by  the  governor 
of  Baku  to  meet  us  and  to  see  that  we  wore  properly  provided  for. 
Our  good  friend  Prince  Dondoukoff-Korsakoff  had  dispatched  to 
the  governor  a  request  that  he  tender  us  assistance  in  seeing  what 
was  of  interest  during  our  stay.  The  aid  was  timely,  for  my 
pocket  had  been  picked  the  night  before  of  a  few  roubles  and  the 


A  KINDLY  RF.CEPTION  AT  BAKU. 


\n 


\\ 


receipt  for  our  ba^ga^'c  in  the  luggage-van.  We  would,  but  for 
this,  liave  had  much  red  tape  to  unravel  before  getting  our  valises. 
The  telegram  from  "  the  governor-general  of  all  Caucasus  "  to 
the  "  governor  of  Baku  "  was,  however,  a  talisman  which  soon 
gave  us  our  traps.  Hardly  were  we  in  our  hotel  before  the  sec- 
retary of  the  governor  appeared,  saying  he  was  delegated  by  the 
governor  to  take  charge  of  us,  and  regretting  that  his  chief  had 
been  compelled  to  leave  town  that  morning,  but  had  before 
leaving,  countersigned  a  permit  for  us  to  go  to  Samarcand.  The 
permit,  it  seems  had  that  morning  been  sent  the  prince  from  the 
War  Department,  and  he  had  forwarded  it,  with  the  further  re- 
(piest  that  we  be  otherwise  assisted.  Am  1  to  be  blamed  if  I  find 
my  prejudices  against  the  Russians  fast  diss<jlving  into  thin  air, 
or  for  the  warm  feeling  the  good  old  soldier-prince  liad  awakened 
in  my  heart  ? 

It  was,  however,  too  late  for  us  to  take  advantage  of  the  per- 
mit. Wc  had  not  funds  for  the  trip,  and  to  get  them  from  TiflLs 
would  entail  further  delay.  With  the  full  conviction  that  the 
very  hot  weather  had  soured  the  grapes,  we  left  the  permit  unused. 
Ikit  now  we  are  rather  regretful  that  we  have  lost  our  opportunity. 
After  all,  what  is,  is  right,  and  we  are  consoled,  but  we  shall  never 
think  of  Vanovsky,  Russian  Minister  of  War,  who  gave  us  this 
permit  nineteen  days  after  it  was  applied  for  without  dwelling  on 
liis  dilatory  action,  and  uttering  a  gentle  anathema  aimed  at  Rus- 
sian red  tape.  There  was  no  sense  in  the  delay,  no  inquiries  were 
made,  but  big  bodies  move  slowly,  and  all  official  matters  in  this 
land  are  big,  and,  therefore,  must  have  a  dignified  gait.  A  com- 
mercial man  whom  we  met  at  Tiflis  had  applied  twenty  days 
before,  and  yet  was  living  in  hopes.  He,  however,  had  business 
to  do  as  he  neared  the  C.ispian  and  was  not  losing  time.  Mr. 
Lt)throp,  in  reply  to  my  first  request  to  get  the  permit  in  four 
days,  said:  "  Four  days  is  a  very  short  time  to  do  any  thing  in 
Russia."  There  are  in  the  Greek  Church  an  intolerable  number 
of  fete-days— two  hundred,  I  am  told.  On  these  days  nothing  is 
done.  We  wished  to  give  out  our  wash  on  Saturday.  "  No  use," 
the  hotel  people  said  ;  "  to-morrow  and  next  day  are  fete-days — 
holidays:  you  must  wait  till  Tuesday."  Banks  are  closed,  and,  as 
government  studiously  inculcates  the  dogmas  of  the  church,  the 
officials  scrupulously  observe  every  holiday.  There  were  several 
holidays  during  the  time  we  awaited  our  permit. 

The  polite  secretary  took  us  during  the  evening  to  the  club  in 
the  governor's  garden  (a  public  park  and  the  only  patch  of  trees 
in  the  city)  and  early  the  next  day  accompanietl  us  to  Balakhana 
the  oil  town,  eight  miles  from  the  city.  As  we  approached,  it 
presented  the  appearance  of  a  Turkish  cemetery,  with  tall,  spire- 
like cypress  trees  close  together.  These  were  the  black  derricks 
over  the  wells,  in  the  neighborhood  of  400  on  a  space  about 
a  mile  square.     Here,  on  this  little  spot,  come  from  below  the 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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countless  millions  of  j^alloiis  of  naplulia  (criiilc  oil),  which  so 
much  interferes  witli  tlie  oil-kiii^s  of  America.  There  are  wells 
in  otlicr  localities  about  Haku,  but  tiie  principal  ones  are  at  liala- 
khana.  Here  some  five  or  six  or  more  years  a^o  a  firm  struck 
"  ile  "  so  furiously  that  they  were  ruineil  by  the  very  vastness  of 
the  product  ;  ior  weeks  or  months  a  million  puds  of  oil  poured 
out  dail)',  carrying  vast  (juantities  of  sanil,  which  ingulfed  the 
houses  and  works  of  nei;^hboriiig  firms,  and  made  a  great  lake 
near  by  and  then  flowed  off  to  tlie  sea.  The  tlamages  wrought, 
ruined  the  owners  of  the  well,  and  their  ])oor  engineer,  una- 
ble to  chain  the  monster,  died  of  a  broken  heart.  The  lake 
has  sunk  down,  but  still  its  bed,  around  which  we  drove,  was 
soggy  with  oil.  We  saw  a  well,  bored  four  or  five  months 
ago.  It  belched  forth  for  days  250,000  puds  a  day  of  oil  and 
sand,  covering  one-story  houses  around  it  on  nearly  a  half  acre  of 
land.  The  saiul  finally  ceased  to  come  ip,  and  then  for  days 
from  100.000  to  200,000  puds  a  day  s|  ited  20  feet  in  the  air. 
It  is  now  controlled,  and  over  50,000  pui  flow  off  every  24  hours 
to  the  tanks. 

It  is  s.iid  the  Russian  oil-fields  stretch  over  a  length  of  nearly 
1,000  miles,  but  have  only  a  narrow  breadth  of  six  to  ten 
miles.  At  a  short  depth  below  the  surface,  at  Halakhana,  oil  is 
reached.  At  first  it  flows  for  a  greater  or  less  number  of  months  . 
then  has  to  be  pumped.  If  this  diminishes  too  much  ti..  auger 
is  inserted,  aiul  at  a  lower  depth  again  it  spurts  up.  The  wells 
are  close  together,  there  being  400  on  a  mile  square — and  even 
on  this  surface  and  cjuite  in  the  middle  there  is  a  spot,  a  (juarter  of 
a  mile  square,  on  which  no  oil  has  been  obtainetl ;  around  it 
stands  the  ])roiluctive  wells.  The  flow  from  one  seems  to  be 
entirely  un.iffected  by  that  of  another  a  few  yards  removed. 
When  the  great  well,  boreil  a  few  months  since  to  130  fathoms, 
poured  forth  its  vast  supjjly,  no  jierceptible  change  was  noticed 
in  that  of  its  nearest  neiglibors.  Though  they  were  not  near  so 
deep.  A  pud  is  40  Russian  pounds.  This  well,  therefore,  poured 
out  from  2,000  to  4,000  tons  a  day  for  a  week,  and  now,  under  con- 
trol, gushes  up  800  tons  a  day,  and  not  a  (piickened  or  lessened  pul- 
sation is  observed  in  a  dozen  wells  within  lOO  or  200  feet,  some  of 
them  not  reaching  a  third  of  its  depth,  and  others  below  its  bot- 
tom. These  wells  about  Haku  are  delivering  annually  about 
120.000.000  puds,  or  say  2,000,000  of  our  tons.  I  may  be  largely 
over  or  under  the  correct  figures,  but  when  one  deals  with  such 
vast  numerals  the  ordinary  reader  is  sufliciently  informed,  even 
though  an  error  of  a  few  figures  occurs. 

A  part  of  Baku  is  called  the  "  black  town,"  because  of  the 
smoke  which  formerly  arose  from  the  great  kerosene  manufacto- 
ries therein  situated.  Twenty  millions  of  puds  of  clarified,  dis- 
tilled, burning  oil  are  sent  each  year  up  the  Volga  to  be  dis- 
tributed throughout  the  north,  and  10,000,000  over  the  railroad 


'^^   A, 


WONDERFUL  OIL   WELLS. 


425 


to  the  Black  Sea.  These  fif^uros  are.  I  think,  correct.  At  a  dozen 
or  inorc  stations  we  met  or  passed  ^reat  trains  witli  20  to  ^o 
hu^e  cistern  cars,  such  as  are  used  in  America,  only  larf^cr,  filled 
with  kerosene.  I-'ive  hundred  siiips  ply  in  and  out  of  the  har- 
bor distributing'  this  oil.  It  now  burns  us  the  head-lif,dils,  and 
the  residuum  as  the  re^udar  fuel  of  locomotives  on  daily  tr.diis 
running  1,000  miles  beyond  the  Cas])ian  into  Central  Asia.  Who 
knows?  i'erhaps  this  is  the  lii^lit  from  the  west  which  is  to  illumine 
the  heart  of  th(^  ^nx-at  continent ;  material  li<,dit,to  briny  in  its  wake 
a  purer  spiritual  lit,dit  !  The  oil  of  these  rej^dons  is  not  so  strong 
as  that  of  I'ennsylvaiii.i  and  docs  not  emit  tiie  same  disa^neeable 
odor.  While  at  H.d.d<liana  we  w.ilked  upon  a  soil  sodden  with 
oil,  we  skirted  little  lakes  of  (  il,  we  crossed  on  little  brid|fes  over 
flowing  streams  of  oil  ;  streams  lar^^c  enouj^h  to  turn  ^ood-sized 
null-wheels.  There  was  a  ^rjasy  smell  about  it,  but  not  as  much 
of  wh.it  we  at  home  c.dl  petroleum  smell  a,;  one  catches  from  a 
half  dozen  of  our  oil  barrel^.  Only  25  percent,  of  this  oil  can  be 
refined  into  kerosene.     The  Pennsylvania  (,il  yields  from  60  to  75. 

While  far  less  burniny-iluitl  comes  from  this  than  from  the  same 
amount  of  American  oil.  yet  it  is  claimed  here  th.it  the  larger 
refuse  is  much  more  valuable — more  valuable  for  lubricating  and 
for  heating  i)urposes.  It  is  used  for  heating  in  every  way.  Food 
is  cooked  with  it,  stoves  in  the  houses  have  pipes  over  the  grates 
with  a  f.iucet.  A  man  lights  a  fire  and  turns  a  faucet  and  keeps 
his  room  warm.  Manufactories  use  no  other  fuel,  except  to  light 
up  with,  for  it  does  not  burn  well  except  over  a  high  he.it.  Loco- 
motives burn  it.  ;ind  ships  and  steamboats  have  dispensed  with 
coal,  and  use  only  a  few  cords  of  wood  a  month  to  start  up  with. 
The  engineer  of  a  locomotive  steps  from  his  engine  with  a  white 
shirt-front,  cleaner  far  than  that  of  the  first  class  passenger,  who, 
being  behind,  catches  more  or  less  dust.  The  fireman's  clothes 
are  greasy  from  the  oil  he  uses  on  the  machine,  but  his  face  needs 
no  washing  when  he  goes  to  his  dinner.  The  fire  roars  in  the  fire- 
box, and  the  steam  screams  when  the  throttle  is  turned,  and  the 
train  rushes  at  the  rate  of  30  miles  an  hour,  but  the  plates  in 
front  of  the  fire-box  are  as  clean  as  my  lady's  tiled  hearth  in  the 
parlor.  We  rushed  up  the  river  from  the  sea  to  Astrakhan  at  the 
rate  of  16  vcrsts  an  hour  on  a  steamer.  I  went  down  into  the 
boiler-room,  and  all  was  as  clean  as  in  a  first-class  kitchen,  and 
under  each  boiler  there  was  less  than  a  capful  of  ashes,  made 
early  in  the  day  when  a  few  sticks  of  wood  were  burned  to  start 
the  flame. 

The  agent  of  the  steamer  company  told  me  that  one  pound  of 
this  fuel  had  as  much  evaporating  power  as  a  pound  and  a  half 
of  the  best  coal.  At  Baku  it  costs  one  and  one  half  kopecks 
a  pud.  at  Astrakhan  about  seven,  and  the  average  price  thence 
up  to  Nijni,  1,530  mi'es,  is  about  14  kopecks;  the  price  increas- 
ing as  the  distance  ir  creases  from  the  supply. 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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But  the  cost  is  far  from  being  the  only  gauge  of  its  superiority 
as  a  fuel.  There  is  no  smoke  frfun  the  snioke-pipcs,  and  no 
cinders  to  fill  passengers'  eyes.  Fuel  is  run  into  the  fuel- 
tank  in  the  locomotive  tender  as  easily  as  water  is,  and  the 
stoker  keeps  up  ills  fire  by  now  and  then  turning  a  faucet.  An 
engineer  turned  off  the  oil  at  the  faucet  in  the  fire-box  of  a  loco- 
motive, and  the  monster  rushed  along  with  only  a  tiny  burning 
jet  under  its  boilers.  A  tap  by  a  small  gavel  at  the  faucet  set  the 
fire-box  to  roaring.  On  a  large  steamer,  for  my  amusement,  the 
engineer  shut  off  the  fire  entirely,  and  all  was  black  in  the  furnace, 
while  the  siiip  ploughed  througii  the  waves.  A  simple  light  tap 
from  a  mallet  not  larger  than  a  hen's  egg  fiiicd  the  fire-bo.x  with 
a  seething  infernal  flame.  The  steam  car.  be  got  up  before  a  fire 
can  be  made  to  burn  with  coal ;  stc  ker's  labor  is  saved  for  feeding 
the  grates,  and  entirely  saved  in  emptying  the  ash-bo.xes.  I  have 
not  yet  been  able  to  find  how  far  north  this  fuel  is  used  on  rail- 
roads, but  in  Caucasus  and  Transcaspia  none  other  is  employed, 
and  among  the  vast  number  of  steamers  for  passengers  and  tow- 
ing on  the  Volga  no  other  fuel  is  consumed.  I  am  informed  that 
already  a  decided  improvement  is  visible  in  the  salvage  of  forests, 
and  possibly  it  will  bring  an  increase  in  rainfall.  The  commerce 
on  the  Volga  is  so  vast,  and  on  the  railroads  leading  to  it,  and 
the  consequent  destruction  of  forests  was  so  great  that  the  stream 
was  certainly  losing  its  tlepth,  owing  to  the  lessened  rains.  For- 
ests are  being  saved,  and  the  Volga  will  be  deeper.  This  infor- 
mation, from  the  agent  and  one  of  the  directors  of  the  great  Cau- 
casus Mercury  Steamboat  Company,  a  man  of  very  decided 
intelligence,  ought  to  have  weight.  He  said  to  me,  when  discussing 
the  matter,  if  there  was  no  other  benefit  from  naphtha  fuel,  this 
alone  would  make  it  a  national  blessing. 

After  our  return  from  Ualakhana  we  received  a  call  from  the 
Mayor  of  Baku,  and  an  invitation  to  dine  with  him.  Like  my- 
self, he  has  served  his  city  for  eight  years.  His  rule  is  said  to 
have  beefi  of  great  benefit  to  it,  if  not  of  jjleasure  to  himself. 
After  an  elegant  tlinner  with  some  very  agreeable  gentlemen,  Mr. 
Despote  Zenovitch,  tb.e  mayor,  look  us  in  a  steam-barge  out 
some  miles  to  witness  the  wonderful  spectacle  of  ;i  burning  sea. 
We  were  fortunate  in  having  a  calm  night,  and  thus  \n  having  a 
fine  exhiijition  of  this  unique  phenomenon.  Over  quite  a  huge 
surface  of  the  outer  b.iy  escaping  gas  from  its  hidden  depths 
boils  up  in  the  se.i  as  if  in  a  great  cauldron.  Some  of  these 
boiling  spots  are  onlj'  a  few  feet  in  diameter,  while  others  are 
scver.ii  yards  wide.  Tiiey  can  be  found  at  night  by  following  the 
odor  of  the  g.is.  We  got  on  the  right  track,  and  were  proceeding 
very  quietly,  when  my  attention  was  called  to  a  seething  sound, 
as  if  from  a  monster  mass  of  fcaining  champagne.  Then  I  saw 
the  water  boiling  and  rolling  away.  A  piece  of  lighted  tow  was 
thrown  into  the  vortex,  and  immediately  the  whole  surface  of  the 


A  BURNING  SEA. 


427 


sea  for  some  yards  was  in  a  blaze.  Our  little  barge's  course, 
though  slackened,  carried  her  over  the  cauldron,  and  the  flames 
rolled  up  on  her  sides,  but  vanished  as  the  barge  passed  over  the 
gas  source.  Then  we  changed  our  wheel,  and  when  a  jet  came 
from  under  her  bow  another  bit  of  blazing  tow  was  thrown  in, 
and  again  another  fluid  fire-works.  Presently  another  barge, 
brought  out  by  the  calm  evening,  approached,  and  added  hf 
share  to  the  spectacle.  At  one  time,  when  she  happened  over  a 
very  large  cauldron  of  gas,  her  hull  was  enveloped  in  flame.  I 
was  told  that  the  heat  evolved  is  so  small  that  a  wooden  boat  can 
safely  pass  through  a  very  considerable  blaze.  It  was  a  rare 
sight,  and  one  which  few  see,  and,  I  think,  no  others  than  those 
who  visit  liaku. 

Not  far  off,  but  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay,  gas  rises  every- 
where from  the  sands.  Push  a  cane  deep  down  and  draw  it  up 
carcfullj-  so  as  not  to  destroy  the  hole  it  makes,  then  apply  z 
match,  and  a  gaslight  can  be  had  sometimes  several  feet  high. 
The  Tartar-^  su'-rend  their  kettles  over  holes  thus  made  and  boil 
their  fish.  They  dig  a  small  pit  into  the  sand,  hll  it  with  lime- 
stone, set  f'r;:  to  the  gas  percolating  the  mass,  and  burn  lime. 

At  Surakhani,  a  little  farther  off,  is  an  old  Persian  temple, 
where,  until  quite  recently,  a  flame  was  burning,  said  to  have 
been  lighted  before  Zoro;ister  gave  his  divine  laws.  It  was 
deemed  by  the  fire-worshippers  to  have  been  ignited  by  God, 
and  to  have  been  burning  from  the  beginning,  and  that  its  ex- 
tinction would  presage  the  destruction  of  the  world.  One  can 
readily  comprehend  the  aw^  Vvi'Lli  which  a  superstitious  people 
would  regard  a  flame  burning  for  ages  with  no  apparent  fuel  for  its 
food.  They  could  readily  believe  it  to  be  fed  by  the  eternal 
breath  of  the  god  of  fire.  Here  Parsee  jjriests  attended  the 
burning  shrine  for  thousands  of  years,  and  pilgrimages  were  made 
to  its  sacred  flames  by  fire-worshippers  from  the  farthest  limits 
of  Persia  until  quite  latelj-. 

Our  guide-book  told  us  that  therj  was  a  decided  smell  of  oil 
about  Baku,  because  the  dust  was  kept  down  by  sprinkling  the 
streets  with  naphtha.  The  good  mayor  seemed  amused  at  the 
fiction.  There  is  but  little  smell  in  the  town,  and  the  oil  was 
never  used  for  such  purposes.  The  name  of  "  black  town  "  is 
now  a  misnomer  for  that  quarter  in  which  the  refineries  are  situ- 
ated. Since  the  complete  use  of  residuum  has  become  successful, 
by  breaking  up  the  oil  jet  under  a  boiler  with  a  jet  of  steam,  but 
little  smoke  is  evolved.  I  wisii  our  cities  where  great  palaces 
burn  soft  coal  were  any  thing  like  as  free  from  smoke.  From  the 
water  at  night  the  city  presents  a  beautiful  sight.  The  vast  num- 
ber of  street-  and  house-lights  lifting  up  from  the  rounded  bay 
gives  it  the  appearance  of  a  brilliantly  illuminated  and  vast  amphi- 
theatre. Street-lamps  are  very  close  to  each  other,  and  every 
window  is  lighted.     The  city  is  pretty,  too,  by  day  from  the  bay, 


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428 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


with  its  old  fortress  and  lofty  tower  built  by  the  great  Queen 
Tamara  long  ages  ago.  When  the  wells  were  bored  here  a  few 
years  since  there  was  scarcely  any  town  outside  of  the  walled 
fortress,  now  there  is  a  population  of  60,000  to  70,000.  The 
Russian  scientists  feel  satisfied  that  there  will  be  practically  no 
end  to  the  supply  of  oil.  To  my  inquiry  if  ho  thought  the  oil 
would  last  forever,  the  Mayor  of  Baku  replied,  "  No !  it  will  give 
out  after  a  while,  perhaps,  in  about  1,000,000  years."  A  very 
bright  young  German  lad  acted  as  our  guide  and  cicerone  at 
Balakhana.  To  my  question  how  it  was  accounted  for  that  wells 
could  be  bored  so  close  to  each  other  and  find  oil  at  such  greatly 
differing  depths — that  is,  from  200  to  nearly  1,000  feet — and  yet 
in  no  way  interfere  with  the  supply  one  of  another,  he  pointed 
to  the  veins  in  the  back  of  his  hand,  saying:  "There  is  the  solu- 
tion :  there  arc  veins  running  near  each  other,  but  totally  separ- 
ated, and  at  different  depths,  and  all  fed  by  a  vast  oil  river  far 
below  any  of  them." 

While  I  write  it  is  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  I  am  finishing 
this  letter  on  the  Volga.  The  sun  is  but  rising  at  Chicago.  Guns 
are  firing,  for  it  is  July  4th,  the  birthday  of  my  country — of  my 
own,  my  native  land.  May  it  give  happiness  to  countless  millions 
through  countless  ages ! 


tj 


Si 


|i^i''i 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

THE  VOLGA  RIVER  AND  MIGHTY  TRAFFIC— ASTRAKHAN— KAZAN'— 
NIJNI  NOVGOROD— RAFTS— THE  PEOPLE— THE  GREAT  FAIR. 

Volga  River  and  at  Nijni  Novgorod^  July  12,  1888. 

Several  persons,  amongj  them  the  American  Consul,  being 
also   English    Resident  at   Moscow,  told   us  we  would  find  the 
Volga   utterly   uninteresting,   except   for  a   short   distance   near 
Samara,  and  advised  us  by  no  means  to  ascend  it  from  Astrakhan  ; 
that  if  we  were  determined  to  travel  along  it,  then  to  descend  it 
instead  of  going  up,  which  would  take  at  least  two  days  longer. 
Wc  chose,  however,  to  go  south  by  rail  and  then  return  north  by 
river,  so  as  to  get  up  with  our  corresponc.ence  on  the  steamers, 
and  thus  avoid  the  necessity  for  stopping  a  day  or  two  anywhere 
to  bring  up  to  date.     Instead  of  being  wearied   by  monotony, 
we  have  found  this  mighty  stream  very  interesting.     There  is  to 
me  always  a  charm  in  moving  along  the  bosom  of  a  great  river— 
a  charm  all   its  own,  and  of  which  the  ocean   is  utterly  devoid. 
The  ocean  gives  its  pleasures,  but  they  are  wholly  different  from 
those  afforded  by  the  running  stream.     One  learns  to  regard  a 
river  as  an  entity'  as  a  separate  and  distinct  and,  to  some  extent, 
a  sentient  thing,  with  which  one  can  hold  communion,  and  to 
which  one  gives  affection  and  friendship,  and  all  with  a  vague 
feeling  that  there  is  a  species  of  reciprocation.     I  look  down  upon 
its  floods,  and  can  imagine  I  hear  them  laughing  and  see  them 
dancing  far  above  in  a  hundred  little  pellucid  rills— laughing  and 
dancing  in  dark  shades  of  forest,  never  sad,  however  deep  the 
leafy  gloom  about  them  ;  stealing  in  quiet  glee  through  grassy 
meadows,  now  leaping  up  in  tiny  wavelets  to  catch  the  airy  but- 
terfly which  ventures  too  near  on  its  gilded  wing,  then  with  gentle 
murmurs  striving  to  join  in  the  chorus  of  singing  birds  in  the 
blossoming  bush  overhanging  it.    I  hear  the  woodman  s  axe  far  off 
on  the  lonely  upland  side ;  its  sad  tone  comes  now  from  close  by 
in  yonder  wood,  then  from  afar  off,  bending  and  steahng  through 
the   forest  trunks— now  loud  and  distinct,  then  scarcely  heard, 
I  hear  the  song  of  the  maiden  as  she  trips  along  the  brook-side, 
and  stoops  to  lave  her  brown  hands  in  its  cool  shallows,  and, 
throwing  a  leaf  into  the  rapid  channel,  watches  to  see  if  it  be  car- 
ried  into  the  whirling  stream  below  or  is  floated  off  into  the  calm, 

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430 


y^  ^/iC^  IF/T^  THE  SUN. 


eddying  pool  at  the  side — and  is  gay  or  sad  as  she  thus  learns  her 
coming  fate.  I  licar  the  low  of  kinc  and  bleat  of  flocks  as  they 
come  down  to  drink  at  the  little  river-bank,  and  the  laughter  of 
villagers  along  its  margin  ;  and  the  sound  of  hammers  and  work- 
shops in  cities  on  the  same  little  river,  now  grown  into  a  navigable 
stream.  The  river  talks  to  me,  and  tells  me  of  these  and  other 
things  on  its  upper  line.  It  catches  my  sympathy  and  returns 
it.  For  we  were  both  once  little  infants,  now  grown  to  manhood. 
We  have  had  our  struggles  in  vain  to  go  upward  ;  we  have  had 
our  ever-downward  march.  I  stand  and  look  down  upon  the 
deep  flood  slipping  from  beneath  our  keel,  and  passing  off,  like 
me,  with  the  oft-repeated  questions,  "Whither?  What?  How?" 
There  are  i)leasures  to  be  derived  from  the  shores  of  rivers;  the 
mountain,  bare  and  bleak  or  green  and  wooded  ;  the  hill  in  shrub 
and  verdure,  with  villages  and  houses  and  flocks;  the  undulating 
plain  in  waving  field  or  close-cropped  turf.  These  give  pleasure, 
but  are  not  sympathizers  in  my  moods.  The  rivers  themselves 
speak  to  me  and  commune  with  me. 

I  have  grown  to  be  the  friend  of  not  a  few  within  ihe  last  year, 
since  we  began  our  "  race  with  the  sun."  The  Columbia,  with  its 
white  current,  and  rocky  precipices  dyed  in  purple  and  as  soft  as 
velvet  in  tone;  the  mighty  Yang-tse-Kiang,  moving  in  grand  and 
deep  majesty;  the  Pearl,  covered  by  thousands  of  Chinese  boats, 
and  floating  a  city ;  the  Menam,  overhung  by  hundred-rooted 
banyans,  and  about  which  tiny  canoes  steal  like  darting  water- 
bugs;  the  Irrawaddy,  reflecting  25,000  pagodas  to  propagate  the 
faith  of  Gautama,  whose  charity  did  not  forget  the  tiniest  insect. 
We  touched  again  and  again  the  holy  Ganges,  which  has  washed 
.iway  the  sins  of  countless  millions,  and  can  make  clean  the 
human  heart,  though  steeped  in  crimes  of  the  blackest  dye.  We 
crossed  the  great  Indus  and  its  several  branches,  beyond  which 
the  world's  conqueror,  Alexander,  could  not  carry  his  victorious 
army.  Then  v.-e  lived  for  days  upor  "Old  Nilus,"  whose  hoary 
head  has  been  ever  lost  in  the  centre  of  the  Dark  Continent,  and 
the  Danube,  washing  the  greenest  fields  and  the  most  golden 
vineyards  of  Europe.  And  now  tlie  Volga!  These  rivers,  or  all 
but  two  at  least,  I  count  my  familiar  friends. 

No  such  feeling  is  ever  awakened  by  the  sea;  on  its  bosom  one 
watches  the  mighty  swells  marking  the  deep  respirations  of  old 
ocean.  Whence  they  come  and  whither  they  go  they  tell  not, 
nor  can  one  guess.  They  arise  from  the  vasty  deep,  and  die 
away  on  the  boundless  wastes.  One  can  watch  the  monster 
waves  lifting  in  foamy  crest,  hungry  for  human  prey.  Angry  and 
fierce,  they  repel  every  human  emotion,  except  fear  and  awe. 
They  ask  no  sympathy^they  give  none.  From  or.c  of  fathomless 
caves  they  rush,  and,  sullen,  return  to  their  gloomy  homes.  I 
love  not  the  ocean,  and  dread  its  angry  moods.  Its  calms  are 
treacherous  ;    its  ripples  arc  deceitful  ;    its  storms  paralyze  ;    its 


THE  VOLGA  AND  THE  TRAFFIC  ON  IT. 


431 


depths  are  a  maw  giving  back  no  return  ;  it  is  a  far-reaching 
reahn,  with  no  single  ray  of  a  redeeming  love  to  light  or  cheer, 
I  love  it  not,  and  never  go  upon  its  bosom  without  a  dread  of  its 
frown. 

The  Volga  is  Europe's  largest  river,  and  is  one  of  the  grandest 
of  the  world.  With  a  length  of  2,30x3  miles,  it  is  navigable  by- 
large  steamers  for  near  1,600,  and  for  comfortable  steamers  and 
broad  barges  for  550  miles  more.  Its  head  is  in  the  Voldai  Hills, 
near  St.  Petersburg,  in  the  northwestern  part  of  Russia.  Its  main 
branches — in  fact,  the  main  river,  the  Kama— has  it3  source  in 
the  northeast  quarter  of  the  empire,  and  unites  with  the  true  Volga 
about  midway  in  its  course.  This  great  river — formed  by  these 
two  branches  and  their  several  hundred  afTluents,  many  of  them 
navigable — spreads  like  a  huge  vein  with  innumerable  feeding- 
veins  over  one  of  the  richest  and  largest  grain-producing  districts 
of  the  world.  Its  deep  waters  abound  in  fish  fit  for  an  epicure's 
table.  The  taking  of  them  gives  employment  to  a  vast  number 
of  people — upward  of  30,000  on  the  main  river, — and  furnish  an 
ever-ready  supply  of  food  to  millions.  Dried  fish  lie  in  great 
uncovered  piles  about  the  cities  and  villages,  in  markets  and 
groceries,  and  one  sees  barges  200  feet  long,  covered  with  cured 
fish  piled  in  ricks  20  feet  high,  the  heads  of  the  outside  course 
protruding  in  regular  layers,  and  looking  like  some  new  style  or 
pattern  of  stonework.  Six  hundred  and  odd  steamers  ply  the 
river.  The  one  I  now  write  on  is  330  feet  long,  60  feet  beam, 
with  engines  of  8oo-horse-power,  and  makes  a  speed  of  20  versts 
an  hour. 

Passenger  steamers  ply  daily  along  the  entire  river  for  over 
2,000  miles — I,  perhaps,  will  not  err  if  I  say  2,100  and  odd  miles 
— up  and  down  with  every  comfort  for  first  and  second-class 
passengers  at  from$i  to  $1.75  for  lOO  miles,  not  including  meals; 
a  good  dinner,  however,  costing  about  40  cents;  and  comfortable 
quarters  with  good  sleeping-bunks  for  third-class  passengers  at 
from  26  to  30  cents  for  loo  miles.  Innumerable  barges  of  large 
size,  some  of  them  over  200  feet  long  and  of  good  breadth,  and 
drawing  8  to  12  feet  when  loaded,  are  being  constantly  towed 
in  long  strings  up  and  down  by  powerful  tow-boats,  one  of  which 
I  saw  having  1,800  horse-power,  and  drawing  barges  on  which 
were  loaded  1,100,000  puds,  or  44,000,000  pounds.  .So  many  tow 
or  passenger-boats  are  met  that  they  themselves  enliven  the  voy- 
age. Vast  numbers  of  rafts  arc  constantly  seen  below  the  mouth 
of  the  Kama,  and  some  above.  These  arc  of  all  lengths,  from 
200  feet  to  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  They  are  built  in  sec- 
tions, so  that  at  any  time  one  can  be  detached  and  disposed 
of.  Many  of  these  rafts  have  upon  them  comfortable  log-houses 
of  one,  two,  or  more  rooms,  glazed  and  ornamental.  The  rafts- 
men live  in,  and  at  the  end  of  their  journey  sell  them  at  a  profit 
to  be  taken  down  and  rc-erected — a  sort  of  ready-made  house. 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


These  log-houses  are  so  peculiarly  a  Russian  institution,  and 
are  so  pretty  that  they  deserve  a  description.  The  logs  are  per- 
fectly straight,  dressed  smooth,  the  inner  side  flattened,  the  outer 
left  rounded,  the  upper  and  lower  side  brought  to  a  straight  edge, 
or  perhaps  with  a  slight  groove.  The  cross  logs  are  so  let  into 
each  other  that  they  fit  down  close,  leaving  the  ends  projecting 
a  half-foot  more  very  ornamentally.  The  logs  are  let  down  upon 
each  other  with  calking  or  a  hair-felting  between,  making  them 
thorouglily  close.  We  have  seen  some  quite  large  houses  of  this 
kind,  two  stories  high,  and  with  many  rooms.  The  partitions, 
being  all  of  the  same  structure,  are  shown  by  the  projecting  ends, 
making  a  pretty  relief.  Generally  throughout  the  wooded  coun- 
try, and  in  small  towns  and  villages,  the  houses  are  of  wood,  the 
better  ones  built  in  this  style.  Sometimes  the  logs  are  ripped  in 
half,  but  the  rounded  side  is  always  out.  In  some  localities  the 
space  between  the  logs  is  calked  with  tow  or  a  fine-broken  grass  or 
moss,  perhaps  usually  with  hemp-tow.  Wc  have  seen  officers' 
quarters  near  encampments  built  in  this  manner  and  painted  a 
brown-red,  but  gent^rally  all  wooden  houses  are  unpainted. 
Paint,  except  on  a  roof,  is  evidently  not  to  the  taste  of  these 
people.  There  is  no  kind  of  house  for  a  wooded  suburb  which 
is  as  pretty  as  these  of  logs. 

There  is  another  wood-carrier  on  this  river  of  a  remarkable 
character  and  used  for  sawed  lumber — a  keel-boat,  150  to  200 
leet  long,  of  heavy  boards,  well  calked,  but  without  deck.  In  this 
sawed  or  hewn  timber  is  laid  across  with  the  beam,  increasing  in 
length  as  the  flare  of  the  hull  increases,  so  as  to  fill  it  closely. 
When  the  top  of  the  hull  is  reached  boards  are  packed  on.  main- 
taining the  flare  of  the  hull,  and  up  to  a  heiglit  of  several  feet, 
then  the  flare  rapidly  increases,  until  the  top  juts  over  the  whole 
hull  many  feet.  On  the  water  the  thing  looks  like  a  great  boat, 
the  upper  part  not  yet  boarded,  with  a  breadth  of  nearly  loo  feet. 
On  this  upper  deck  are  generally  one,  two,  or  more  of  tii^  ready- 
made  log-houses  above  named.  The  amount  of  lumber  on  one 
of  these  hulls  is  enormous.  They  are  generally  floated  down  in 
high  water  only,  and  stranded  when  sold.  We  saw  many  of  them 
far  down  the  Volga.  As  the  stranded  hull  is  unloaded  it  falls 
out  to  the  side.  No  sawed  lumber  is  carried  down  the  river, 
except  on  these  crafts.  The  number  of  rafts,  however,  is  very 
great,  the  logs  coming  mainly  from  the  Kama  River,  and  its  400 
affluents,  to  be  sawed  up  below  when  used. 

There  are  many  large  flouring-mills  in  difTerent  cities  along  the 
river,  one  of  them,  I  was  told,  turning  out  many  thousand 
puds  of  flour.  Every  city,  town,  and  village  has  numbers  of 
windmills.  On  the  high  ground  back  of  one  moderately-sized 
village,  I  counted  39.  Everywhere  in  the  land  the  bulk  of  the 
peasant-grinding  is  done  by  the  wind.  Going  south  by  rail  we 
saw  many  hundreds.     In  some  of  the  steam-mills  wheat-meal  is 


JiL'SS/AA-  BREAD.      WOMEN. 


433 


made  instead  of  flour — a  rounded  grit  as  coarse  as  our  fine  corn- 
meal.     The  bread  from  this  is  delicious.     Had  bread  seems  to  be 
a  rare  exception  in  Russia.     Hrcad  is  the  food  of  the  people,  the 
working  people  living  on  black  bread,  but  it,  too,  is  of  excellent 
quality.     One  sees  bread   for  sale   in  every  kind  of  store  in  the 
smaller  towns.         I  have  thus  been  enabled  to  examine  a  great 
many  specimens.     No  one  ever  objected  to  my  "  hefting  "  a  loaf. 
It  always  seemed  light  and  never  sour,  and  as  the  loaves  are  made 
very   large  (say   a  foot   and   a   half  in   diameter  when   round,  or 
when  oblong,  lO  inches  by   15  to  20  long),  and  arc  cut  to  sell 
to    small    purchasers,   I   could    examine   it    well.     I    have    never 
seen  such  bread  in  any  other  country.     I  wish  Russia  would  ex- 
port many  of  her  bakers  to  America — who  can  beat  the  world  in 
making  sour  bread  and  sodden  biscuits.     It  is  an  exception  when 
one  gets  really  good  bread  in  a  small  town  in  the  United  States, 
and  even  in  our  large  cities  one  seldom  finds  as  sweet  and  tooth- 
some a  loaf  as  is  had  here  everywhere.     I   have  talked  of  this  to 
several   commercial   travellers — that   modern   race  of  sharp  men 
throughout  the  world — and  am  informed  th.it  throughout  Russia 
there   is   rarely  ever  seen   a  bad  loaf.     It  is  made  here  of  many 
kinds — for  eating  with  meat,  for  tea  and  coffee,  plain  or  slightly 
sprinkled   with   sectl   and   sugar,   purely   white,   purely    rye,  and 
mixed.  Like  the  Orientals,  the  people  do  not  seem  to  think  bread 
can  get  dirty.     It  is.  theref(jre,  piled  on  tables  and  counters,  and 
small  rings  and  pretzels  are  hung  on  strings  exposed  to  the  dust, 
and  hucksters  ])eddle  the  small  rings  on  the  dustiest  roads.     The 
common  laboring  women   wear  a  sort  of  coarse  woollen  sacque, 
very  loose  and  tied  in  at  the  waist.     The  bosom  of  this  sacque  is 
a  sort  of  carry-all.     One   can  see  one  of  these  women  pack  into 
this  greasy  receptacle  a  half-bushel  of  rings  and  small  white  bread. 
I   suppose  such   is  not  made  in  the  peasant  village.     The  bread 
must   be   savory  by  the  time  it  reaches  the  hamlet,  several  versts 
a  vvay. 

The  women  along  the  Volga  all  seem  to  do  their  full  share  of 
work,  even  of  the  heaviest  kind.  Among  the  fishermen  she  rows 
the  boat  while  her  man  casts  the  net.  She  trundles  barrows  and 
carries  stone,  loads  wagons,  and  carries  wood  and  heavy  freight 
upon  the  steamers,  and  helps  to  build  embankments  on  the 
railroads.  She  is  man's  helpmeet,  and  I  rather  think,  meets  him 
more  than  half  way.  But  I  think  she  docs  it  of  her  own  free 
will.  For  she  is  too  tough  and  strapping  for  her  lord  to  force 
against  her  will.  She  could  hold  her  own  in  a  fair  fight,  and  has 
many  opportunities  for  taking  an  unfair  advantage,  for  all  the 
peasant  men  have  the  luxurious  habit  of  getting  very  frequently 
gloriously  drunk.  They  go  to  the  cities  for  great  distances  on 
important  fete  days.  They  pray  and  cross  themselves  to  an  aston- 
ishing extent  all  the  forenoon  and  even  up  to  one  or  two  o'clock, 
when  the  church  services  end,  and  then  they  drink  like  fish.     We 


\S 


\\  \ 


:     I 


f' 


* 


434 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN 


have  been  lucky  in  being  in  cities  on  holy  days.  The  other  day 
at  Kazan  was  the  great  fete  of  the  year;  over  100,000  peasants 
were  in  town.  We  drove  out  along  the  roads  leading  to  the 
country,  and  saw  the  peasants  returning  to  their  villages,  some 
perhaps  10,  15,  and  even  20  vcrsts  away.  Th«y  were  afoot  and 
in  wagons,  the  latter  having  a  sort  of  wicker  body,  and  without 
springs.  Some  wagons  held  two  or  three,  some  five  to  eight.  Every 
man,  in  wagons  or  afoot,  was  more  or  less  intoxicated.  Here  were 
a  couple  arm-in-arm,  in  hot  but  good-natured  discussion  ;  there  a 
half-dozen  with  arms  about  each  other's  neck,  singing  and  happy. 
Here  a  woman  dragging  her  husband  along;  there  she  props  him 
up  in  a  wagon  ;  here  they  lie  in  the  bottom  of  the  vehicle ;  there 
sitting  in  it  and  swaying  back  and  forth.  Sometimes  there  were 
a  half-dozen  men  with  arms  over  each  other's  neck,  the  outer  one 
having  his  arm  over  a  young  woman,  all  singing  at  the  top  of 
their  voices  as  they  reeled  from  side  to  side  along  their  homeward 
road. 

The  women,  in  such  cases,  seemed  thoroughly  sober  but 
amused  by  their  male  companions,  whom  they  were  convoying 
safely  home.  Some  of  them  were,  perhaps,  their  brothers. 
I  have  never  seen  as  many  drunken  men  at  one  time, 
nor,  indeed,  on  50  or  100  occasions  together,  as  I  saw  on  one  road 
here  during  a  half-hour.  At  one  locality  there  were  several 
dozens  of  houses  about  an  open  space,  a  sort  of  wagon-yard. 
These  were  all  filled  with  men  who  were  laying  in  their  supply  of 
drink.  In  one  wagon  wore  four  men  asleep  on  the  bottom,  a 
woman  and  little  boy  driving.  The  woman  did  not  seem  at  all 
put  out.  She  took  it  as  a  thing  of  course.  There  were  a  few 
nearly  grown  lads  somewhat  high.  Men  of  30  and  under  were 
full  and  jolly,  from  30  to  40  full  and  stupid.  Nearly  all  the  old 
chaps  were  clean  gone  and  asleep.  I  si)oke  to  a  gentleman  of 
what  I  had  seen.  He  said  he  doubted  not  that  nine  out  of  ten 
of  all  the  thousanosof  male  peasants  in  town  that  day  went  home 
considerably  into.xicated,  and  the  bulk  of  them  thoroughly 
drunk.  These  are  the  descendants  almost  pure  of  the  old  Scyth- 
ians of  2,000  years  ago,  great  drur'  ards  at  that  far-away  period. 

A  very  prominent  physician  from  Moscow,  a  travelled  man 
and  one  of  our  fellow-passengers,  tells  me  he  does  not  think  the 
Russians  drink  as  much  as  the  Germans,  but  that  they  are  the 
only  people  in  the  world  who  drink  on  empty  stomachs  and  be- 
fore eating.  To  that  he  ascribed  the  drunkenness,  and  says  the 
peasants  do  not  hide  it  when  drunk,  for  among  themselves  it  is 
no  disgrace.  They  are  not  quarrelsome,  nor  very  noisy,  but  are 
thoroughly  good-natured.  When  boozy,  a  Russian's  great  desire 
is  to  go  to  sleep,  and  if  permitted,  sleeps  off  all  of  his  drunk. 

Kazan  is  a  very  picturesque  city  on  the  east  side  of  the  river, 
and  was  for  long  years  the  last  spot  from  which  the  exile  to 
Siberia  looked  back  toward  his  lost  home.     Here  he  entered  that 


*  ! 


•        I 


I.      . 


KA  ZA  iV.     S  ITJiJiS  77  TIONS. 


4.« 


great  steppe  land  whicli  was  to  be  his  almost  trackless  road  into 
cold  and  bleak  Northern  Asia.  It  was  the  capital  of  the  Kazan 
Tartars  for  centuries,  and  now  has  some  10,000  of  their  descend- 
ants in  the  free  enjoyment  of  their  religion  and  customs.  They 
have  not  the  coarse  Mongolian  face  of  those  about  Haku,  but 
all  have  the  outstanding  ear  with  large  stem.  The  city  has  .t 
population  of  nearly  150,000,  some  fine  buildings,  a  large  univer- 
sity, and  many  fine  churches.  In  the  cathedral  within  the  Krem- 
lin, we  witnessed  the  imposing  ceremony  of  the  reception  of  the 
Ikon  of  the  "Virgin  of  Kazan," which,  by  divine  miracle,  escaped 
unharmed  the  terrible  conflagration  which  swept  over  the  city  in 
the  sixteenth  century.  After  a  long  and  beautiful  ceremony,  the 
Ikon  was  brought  in  by  two  sisters  of  the  monastery,  which  has 
it  in  sacred  charge.  The  bells  throughout  the  city  pealed  in  wild 
acclaim,  and  the  people  seemed  almost  beside  themselves  with 
joy.  Received  with  profound  veneration  by  the  archbishop  and 
his  long  list  of  assisting  bishops  ami  jiriests,  it  was  carried  in  pro- 
cession, followed  and  surrounded  by  the  bishops,  through  several 
streets,  to  a  booth  on  a  low  plain,  where  the  "  Ikon  from  .Smo- 
lensk "  and  another  were  met.  Then  the  bells  again  pealed  in 
wild  noise,  and  the  100,000  people  and  over,  on  the  Kremlin 
heights  and  in  the  adjacent  streets  bowed  and  crossed  themselves 
in  a  religious  fervor  bordering  upon  frenzy.  The  sun's  rays  were 
pouring  down  fiercel)',  yet  every  head  was  uncovered  for  an  hour 
or  more  while  the  procession  slowly  moved,  and  every  man, 
woman,  and  child  bowed  and  crossed  themselves,  bowed  and 
crossed,  again  and  again,  until  I  almost  felt  theirs  was  a  muscular 
religion  requiring  as  much  activity  of  the  vertebral  column  and 
of  the  right  arm  as  that  of  a  trapeze  performer. 

Thg  Virgin  Mother  of  God  visits  the  city  once  a  year  and  re- 
mains one  month,  and  her  Ikon  is  daily  carried  from  church  to 
church,  when  she  again  leaves,  the  sins  of  the  city  being  too 
great  for  her  to  remain  longer.  During  this  month  she  receives 
from  50,000  to  100,000  roubles  from  the  grateful  people,  whom 
she  blesses  by  her  presence.  The  Kremlin  wall  stands  on  high 
ground  ;  from  its  foot  a  sloping  grassy  bank  drops  down  nearly 
100  feet,  and  then  runs  off  into  a  broad  decline.  During  the 
procession  we  witnessed,  tliis  bank  for  a  considerable  length,  the 
walls  above,  and  the  incline  below,  was  a  d'^n^e  mass  of  pious 
people,  mostly  peasants.  They  were  in  their  holiday  dress,  light 
red  being  the  dominant  color.  Then  came  pink  and  purple  and 
white.  Looking  upon  this  mass  of  people,  we  saw  a  picture  to 
which  the  pencil  of  a  Teniers  or  a  Van  Dyke  could  hardly  have 
done  justice.  We  had  admirable  opportunities  for  witnessing  the 
ceremonies  within  and  without  the  church,  for  the  police,  who 
were  necessary  to  keep  the  pious  masses  from  crushing  upon  the 
holy  orders,  recognizing  us  as  strangers,  permitted  us  to  stand 
among  the  privileged  classes. 


h 


ii 


wm 


\i 


m 


i 

Hit 


;;: 


436 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SLi\. 


•71 


':7 


The  ceremonies  of  the  Greek  Church,  which  we  have  now  seen 
on  tliree  prominent  fete-clays — at  the  Catliedral  of  the  Saviour, 
in  Moscow,  the  cathedral  in  Tiflis,  aiui  tlien  at  Kazan — are  very 
imposing,  ami  the  music  simply  excjuisite.  No  orj,Mn  or  any 
other  instrument  is  permitted,  but  the  choirs  of  men  and  boys 
are  thoroujjhly  trained.  The  chanted  responses  from  the  choir 
are  wonderfully  sweet  and  touchin^^  and  the  whole,  I  think, 
niore  impressive  and  much  more  religious  in  tone  than  when 
accompanietl  by  the  organ.  Hut  the  mass  of  ceremony — the 
bowing  and  kneelint^ ;  the  crossing  and  kissing  of  symbols;  the 
intense  veneration  of  Ikons  and  pictures;  the  manipulation  of 
robes  and  vestments,  degenerated  into  an  absolute  idolatry  as 
intense  as  any  thing  to  be  witnessed  in  Hindoo  worship  or  Chi- 
nese pageantry,  and  lacking  the  deep,  heart-reaching  simplicity 
of  the  Ikiddhist  forms.  An  intelligent  Russian,  a  lirm  supjjorter 
of  the  Greek  Church,  said  to  me  to-day  that  this  intense  formal- 
ism was  all  for  the  ignorant  peasants,  and  that  to  him  it  bor- 
dered upon  atheism,  the  extreme  of  idol.itry  and  absolute  un- 
belief meetin4^  in  the  excessive  formalism  t)f  the  church.  At 
times,  during  the  movement  of  the  processicju  at  Kazan  the  tens 
of  thousands  of  people  looking  on  would  bow  and  cross  themselves 
for  several  minutes  continuous!)-,  looking  like  thousands  of  life- 
size  supple  jacks  worked  by  a  single  string;  and  some  who 
liad  space  enough,  would  dro])  upon  their  knees  and  bow  their 
heads  upon  the  ground,  and  now  ami  then  could  be  heard  a  man 
chattering  as  if  in  an  ecstasy  of  worship.  In  the  churches,  cere- 
mony follows  ceremou)'  in  (piick  succession,  as  the  recei\ing  the 
Bible  and  kissing  it;  the  elevation  of  the  1  lost ;  the  ])reparation  of 
the  wine  and  bread,  gone  through  b)-  archbishop  and  the  assist- 
ing bishops;  the  kissing  each  piece  of  vestment  as  it  is  put^  upon 
the  prelate;  the  kneeling  before  and  kissing  the  sacred  s\'mbol ; 
the  many  points  where  the  entire  audience  has  to  bow  and  cross 
itself,  and  where  all  have  to  kneel  and  many  to  abase  themselves 
so  as  to  bring  the  forehead  to  the  ground;  the  marching  out 
into  the  body  of  the  church  or  in  front  of  the  screen,  which  shuts 
off  the  high  anr'  sacred  altar  or  inner  tabernacle  from  the  main 
church  by  the  priesthood  ;  and  then  the  counter-marching  and 
bowing  to  each  other,  lifting  frecpiently  some  piece  of  robe  as  a 
lady  lifts  her  favor  to  her  partner  in  a  dance ;  the  frequent 
removal  of  tiaras  or  gilded  hats,  and  then  the  replacing  them 
with  formal  cercmon)'  ;  the  constant  moving  of  many  priests 
with  long,  flowing  locks,  often  curled  and  hanging  far  over  the 
shoulders  and  mingling  with  the  flowing  beard  ;  these  ceremonies 
arc  so  numerous  and  long-continued,  and  all  so  eagerly  watched 
by  the  ignorant  masses,  that  I  was  forced  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  main  features  of  the  Russo-Greek  religion  are  simply  in  a 
close  observance  of  outward  forms,  and  that  the  piety  of  the 
people  is  mostly  in  externals.     And  when  to  this  is  added  the 


t      I 


RELIGION  VERGING  UPON  IDOLATRY 


437 


observance  by  the  people  of  the  outward  form  of  crossiiijij  and 
removing  of  hats  and  short  prayers  before  tlie  many  Ikons  and 
shrnies  which  line  the  streets,  before  whicii  few  pass  w'itliout  some 
ceremony,  tin;  low  and  illiterate  never;  and  then  the  fact  that 
after  a  day  spent  in  tliis  outward  ceremony  of  worship,  thousands 
of  men  will  t^ivc  themselves  up  to  besotted  drunkenness;  and 
when  so  drunk  that  they  can  scarcely  totter,  if  a  shrine  should 
he  passed,  they  will  drop  upon  their  knees  and  cros?<  tliein- 
selves  frantically,  and  chatter  out  a  maudlin  prayer — when  one 
sees  all  of  these  thiiii^s  and  compares  them  to  the  slavisii  idolatry 
of  the  far  Orient — an  idolatry  as  sincere  as  any  thing  here 
seen,  but  not  more  slavish — the  question  arises,  is  not  the  one 
nearly  as  idolatrous  as  the  otiier,  and  will  not  the  good  (iod  listen 
to  the  worship  of  the  ignorant  in  the  far  Kast  through  their 
symbols  as  he  listens  to  these?  And  will  He  not  meet  out  to 
all  in  accordance  with  individual  sincerity  and  personal  merit  ? 

At  Kazan  there  is  a  pretty  garden  or  park,  where  a  regimental 
band  plays  every  evening.  The  frequenters  are  of  all  classes. 
Willie,  with  a  sigh,  declared  he  did  not  see  even  a  fairly  good- 
looking  woman  during  the  two  evenings  we  promenaded  in  the 
park.  There  were  several  Tartar  women  so  veiled  as  to  show 
only  their  eyes.  His  imagination  worked  them  up  into  Oriental 
beauties.  Seeing  them  sitting  apart  and  rather  removed  from  the 
crowd,  with  their  mantles  thrown  back  from  their  faces,  we 
passeil  before  them  on  a  reconnoitring  expedition.  They  were 
painted  and  smiled  upon  us,  evidently  open  for  acquaintance. 
They  were  of  the  sinners  who  prevent  the  "Virgin  of  Kazan" 
from  dwelling  longer  than  a  month  each  year  in  her  old  home. 
The  music  played  in  this  garden  till  full  midnight.  Even  then, 
there  was  a  streak  of  day  along  the  northern  horizon.  The  clatter 
of  vehicles  under  our  window  going  to  and  from  the  garden  over 
the  rough  cobble  pavements,  and  the  music,  kept  me  awake. 
Just  at  twelve  there  was  a  wild  peal  of  bells.  1  supposed,  at  first, 
it  a  part  of  the  fete  ceremonies,  but  soon  a  glow  was  reflected 
from  the  tall  building  opposite  our  window,  and  people  began  to 
hurry  toward  the  Krendin.  \Vc  followed.  There  was  a  fire — a 
large  mill,  which  we  had  tried  to  enter  during  the  day,  but  were 
repulsed,  was  burning.  It  was  of  wood,  several  stories  high,  and 
filled  with  flour  and  grain.  It  seemed  to  me  the  entire  town  was 
on  the  Kremlin  heights.  The  illumination  of  the  many  church 
domes  and  gilded  crosses  of  the  tall  bell-towers,  and  green  roofs, 
and  of  the  vast  crowd,  made  a  brilliant  sight.  The  loss  was  over 
loo.ooo  roubles,  and  14  laborers  about  the  establishment  are,  I  am 
told,  missing.  There  seems  to  be  no  attempt  of  the  firemen  to  sub- 
due the  flames.  The  building  being  detached,  was  allowed  to 
burn  at  leisure.  They,  however,  watched  and  used  water  about  the 
other  buildings  where  sparks  were  falling. 

The  police  force  of  provincial  cities  are  not  considered  large 
enough  for   property  protection.      Private  night-watchmen  are 


<  V 


'  \i\ 


438 


./  RACr.  ir/TJf  THE  SUA'. 


hi 


\    ^  !■' 


V 


employed.  Tlicy  sound  a  sort  of  rattle  to  disturb  the  ni^ht  at 
fretiueut  intervals.  I  believe,  to  tell  tiiieves  that  they  are  about, 
anil  their  empliners  that  they  themselves  are  not  asleep. 

There  are  about  40  lartje  cities  alon^  the  Vol},^,  and  over 
1,000  towns  and  villaj^es,  and  many  of  the  latter  lar^e  and  cov- 
ering' extensive  spaces  of  ^rounil.  Astrakhan  is  virtually  a  sea- 
port, thouj^h  it  is  80  miles  from  the  Caspian,  at  the  head  of  the 
delta  of  the  river.  The  \'ol;^a  has  many  mouths,  tlie  two  outer 
ones  bein^  perhaps  loo  miles  apart  wlien  they  reach  the  sea. 
At  the  foot  of  the  western  mouth  and  a  little  out,  is  a  sort  of 
floating'  town  called  "  Nine  Foot,"  that  bcinLf  the  depth  of 
water  on  the  bar.  Mere  larj^e  ships  unload  upon  smaller  ves- 
sels and  lighters.  Above  the  bar  the  river  is  much  lieeper. 
Hetween  the  eastern  ami  western  channels  of  the  delta  and  the 
other  moutlis  is  a  low,  flat,  island  country,  with  some  cultivation, 
much  |j[rass,  and  a  larLje  number  of  cattle,  and  many  fishing- 
villages.  Few  river  cities  make  a  larger  display  of  vessels — ships, 
steamboats,  and  barges — than  this  (jid  Tartar  town.  Hundreds 
are  K'ing  along  its  extensive  piers  and  anchored  out  in  the 
broatl  stream.  It  is  a  busy  city  of  70,000  people,  with  an  old 
walled  kremlin,  many  fine  churches,  some  good  public  buildings, 
.ind  substantiall}-  built  up  streets.  ■  Here  are  shown  I'eter  the 
Great's  little  ship,  built  by  his  own  hands,  and  many  of  ids  imple- 
ments.  The  whole  was  locked  up  when  we  were  there,  owing 
to  some  visitor  having  lately  dropjK-d  and  broken  the  olil  em- 
peror's drinking  tank.ird. 

We  have  halted  at  Saratof  and  .Samara,  both  worthy  a  visit. 
Before  reaching  the  latter  we  passed  under  a  magnificent  railroad- 
bridge  with  13  huge  iron  spans,  and  about  80  feet  above  the 
river.  It  is  the  only  one  on  the  Volga  and  is  a  noble  work. 
The  footings   ,f  the  pier  are  far  beneath  the  bed  of  the  river. 

Nijni-Xovgovoc'  the  upper  terminus  for  heavy  river  craft, 
1,530  odd  miles  from  the  sea,  makes  a  great  display  of  river 
craft.  HunuTi"  is  of  steamers  and  barges  lie  along  the  banks  of 
the  rivers,  or  are  anchored  in  sets  of  from  four  or  five  up  to 
a  dozen  out  in  the  rivers.  From  this,  forjOOorrxDo  miles  farther 
up  the  river,  lighter  steamers  are  requiretl.  ( )ne  line,  distinguished 
as  the  "  American  steamers,"  are  stern-wheelers,  some  of  them 
fine  specimens.  Nijni-Novgorod  is  so  celebrated  for  its  great  an- 
nual fair,  that  its  beauty  of  situation  and  splendid  views  have  been 
overlooketl,  ;ind  tlie  traveller's  attention  has  scarcely  been  called 
to  them.  V^iewed  from  the  river,  it  is  exceedingly  picturesque, 
and  quite  peculiar.  The  town  of  60,000  or  more  peo])le  is  situ- 
ated on  a  peninsula,  made  by  tlie  confiueiice  with  the  Volga  of 
the  Oka  River,  which  comes  up  from  the  southwest,  and  is  nearly 
as  large  as  the  main  stream.  Along  the  banks  of  these  two 
rivers  is  a  strip  of  nearly  level  land,  ranging  in  width  from  100 
to  200  feet  up  to  500  or  600,  and  extending  along  the  Volga  and 


i    -LJi, 


I        \    'f 


at 

't. 


NrjNl-NO  VGOKOD. 


4J9 


up  the  Oka  two  or  moiv  miles.  This  strip  is  closely  built  with 
nice  stone  houses,  busims-,  ])laces,  and  scvi-nil  hanilsf)inc  cluirciies 
and  a  monastery  or  two.  Hcliiiul  these  building's  lift  very  steep 
liills,  200  to  300  feet  hi^h,  and  rather  level  on  top.  (^n  these 
the  main  city  is  built,  many  of  its  best  houses  and  churches 
lifting'  from  the  crest  of  the  hills  and  seen  from  the  w.iter. 
Between  tlie  hills  come  clown  deep  ravines,  and  into  them  run 
other  and  smaller  ones.  The  bottoms  of  all  tiiese  have  been 
handsomely  ^'raded  into  streets,  with  very  steep,  even  slopes, 
liftin<;  up  to  the  hill-top.  These  slopes,  both  on  the  river  and 
on  the  ravines,  are  prettil}-  sodded,  with  here  and  there  little 
bunches  of  vi[,rorous  trees.  Xo  houses  are  built  on  the  slopes, 
except  where,  at  the  lower  edges,  a  couple  of  monasteries  with 
handsome  churches  sli;^htly  climb.  The  Kremlin's  crenulated 
wall  climbs  up  the  hill  on  the  N'olija  side,  and  with  its  towers, 
aided  by  churches,  crowns  its  crest.  Zif^/.ag  f(jot-roads,  well 
graded,  mount  the  sides  of  the  slopes,  and  the  deep-cut  ravine 
roads  are  seen  creeping  upward  from  the  water.  Thus  is  given 
the  peculiar  picture  of  a  city,  with  a  sort  of  belt  of  green,  beauti- 
fully sloping,  and  well  kept  hill-sides,  running  around  and  sepa- 
rating the  upjjer  from  the  lower  town.  The  view  of  the  city  is 
beautiful.  The  views  from  the  terraced  gartlens  on  tlie  hills  are 
magnificent — a  vast  plain,  sufficiently  wooded,  with  villages  and 
many  domed  churches,  with  a  mighty  river  reaching  far  to  the 
north  ami  to  the  south  in  graceful  curves  ;  the  plain  beyond,  cut 
here  and  there  by  smaller  waters  ;  the  river  below,  with  barges 
and  steamers  by  the  hundred  at  anchor,  and  yet  alive  with  many 
moving  among  the  silent  ones.  No  lines  of  smoke  tarnish  the 
pure  air.  These  things  make  a  glorious  jiicture,  and  one  well 
worth  visiting,  even  though  no  fair  were  held  here.  Yet  so  great 
is  the  fair,  that  thousands  visit  it  as  a  show,  and  hardly  see  the 
real  beauties  of  the  town. 

The  localit)'  of  the  great  fair  is  on  a  flat  plain,  over  and  north 
of  the  Oka,  and  reached  by  a  long  and  very  broad  floating  bridge. 
1  had  no  conception  of  the  e.<itent  of  the  buildings  required  for 
this  great  annual  market,  and  supposed  we  would  find  a  few  tem- 
])orary  structures  and  large  open  spaces.  Instead  of  that,  we 
found  a  good-sized  city,  with  miles  and  miles  of  well  paved  and 
thoroughly  sewered  streets,  bordered  by  miles*  and  miles  of  brick 
houses  generally  of  two  stories,  but  often  of  three,  and  quite 
a  number  of  four.  These  streets  are  from  a  half  mile  to  perhaps 
a  mile  and  a  quarter  in  length,  some  of  them  with  walks  through 
the  centre,  shaded  by  fine  trees.  Many  of  the  buildings  are 
pretty,  and  on  some  streets  uniform  in  style.  Nearly  all  have 
wide  wooden  awnings  covering  the  sidewall:.i.  Cutting  across 
this  city,  which  is  oblong,  are  two  or  three  broad  canals — rivers  in 
breadth, — crossed  by  bridges,  and  some  spanned  by  houses  of 
light,  pretty,   and  airy  construction,  elevated    upon  piles.     All 


: 


y 


-'■Jill 


/ 


l.l 


/' 


'V 


I'  I 


,k 


''i 


440 


A  RACE  WJTH  THE  SUN. 


shops  and  warehouses  are  now  closed,  except  where  men  and 
women  are  busy  repairing  and  cleaning  up  for  the  vast  gatiicring 
to  be  held  in  a  couple  of  weeks.  It  was  a  curious  thing  to  rattle 
over  well  paved  streets  among  well  built  houses  at  mid-day,  and 
find  nearly  every  thing  silent  and  deserted.  If  it  had  been  night 
it  would  have  seemeil  natural,  for  one  could  have  imagined  the 
citizens  yet  asleep.  On  some  streets  not  a  soul  was  visible.  Our 
drosky  rattled  dismally,  as  in  a  city  of  the  dead.  In  less  than  a 
month  from  now  all  will  be  different.  Shops  will  be  filled,  and 
brilliant  displa\'s  made  of  gooils  from  ;'.li  lands  and  of  every  peo- 
ple. Two  hundred  thousand  people  from  man}'  quarters  of  the 
world  will  be  here  jostling  against  each  other  ;  and  in  five  weeks' 
time  products  of  scattered  countries  to  the  value  of  $100,000,000 
will  have  changed  hands. 

The  fair,  I  am  told,  however,  is  not  what  it  was  formerly.  One 
no  longer  sees  vast  crowds  of  Asiatics,  and  long  trains  of  camels 
laden  with  the  goods  of  the  far  East.  The  Sue-;  Canal  has  made 
all  Europe  ncigiibors  of  India  and  China,  and  the  wealth  of  those 
far-off  lands  comes  to  tlie  West  on  the  ships  of  tiic  sea,  and  not 
on  the  ships  of  the  desert.  I  learned  that  one  sees  at  the  fair 
many  people  of  many  lands,  but  no  longer,  as  formerly,  in  colo- 
nies redolent  of  Asiatic  odors,  and  ([iiaint  and  cin'ioiis  with 
Asiatic  costumes  and  customs.  Two  hundred  millions  of  roubles' 
worth  of  goods  ch.inge  hands,  but  the  traders  are  n-^  .:rly  all  Rus- 
sian, and  the  bulk  of  the  goods  is  of  this  land.  Still,  it  must  be 
an  interesting  sight  to  see  200,000  peoj)le  all  in  tlieir  own  sliojis 
and  warehouses,  eager  and  anxious  to  crowd  a  year's  dealing  into 
a  few  weeks  of  time.  One  probably  cannot  see  the  peculiarities 
of  main-  pcojile,  brought  out  in  bold  relief  as  formerly,  but  it  must 
be  a  grand  spot,  for  one  who  can  speak  the  prevailing  Kinguages, 
to  study  human  nature,  and  to  watch  it  in  its  greed.  Then,  too, 
one  can  see  it  in  mot)ds  other  th.m  when  intent  on  trade.  There 
are  theatres,  large  and  small,  and  all  kinds  of  amusements.  There 
are  great  churches,  one  of  them — a  splendid  structure — open  only 
during  the  fair.  The  whole  thing  is  a  state  institution,  the  state 
owning  the  ground,  the  jniblic  buildings,  and  a  l.irge  number, 
perhaps  the  great  majority,  (~if  the  storehouses  aiul  shops.  Private 
persons,  however,  have  built  some,  and  have  long  leases  on  others. 
One  sees  signs  ov  jr  sho|)s,  beautiful  in  design,  and  costly,  and,  as 
yet,  nothing  has  been  in  the  shops  since  last  .September.  The 
buildings  are  nearly  .dl  metal-roofed,  and  the  roofs  are  all  painted 
green.  This  seems  almost  universal  among  pul:'.!''  'ouildings  in 
Russia.  On:  of  our  reasons  for  desiring  to  go  to  Samarcand,  was 
that  it  would  bring  us  here  when  the  fair  would  be  in  progress. 
We,  however,  cannot  afTord  to  be  long  enough  near  it  to  come 
again. 

I  said,  in  the  beginning  of  this  letter,  that  I  found  the  Volga  a 
charming  river  to  travel  on.     It  may,  perhaps,  be  called  rather 


K- 


li\ 


I 


THE  TREND  OE  THE  VOLGA. 


441 


monotonous,  for  many  of   ■  s  long  reaches  arc  lacking  in  picturesque 
highlands,  though  these  arc  not  entirely  wanting.     It  has  one 
feature,  I  think,  peculiar  to  itself.     The  bluffs  and  high  grounds, 
such  as  it  affords,  are  continuous  on  the  right  bank,  and,  with 
small  exceptions,  entirely  lacking  on  the  other.     It  seems  to  have 
trended  all  the  time  westward,  occasionally  forced,  by  barriers  it 
could  not  surmount,  to  the  east.     This  disposition  is,  I  suppose, 
the  result  of  the  earth's  easterly  motion,  leaving  the  freer  w  iter 
behind,  which,  therefore,  takes  a  vostward  course  as  it  flows  to 
the   sea.     In   parts  of  its  course,  and  perhaps  the  greater     art, 
it  lies  in  a  valley  10  to  20  miles  wide.     This  valley  is  a  depre.    ion 
in  the  great  rolling  steppe  which  spreads  acro.ss  southern  Ru  sia. 
The  river  hugs  close  under  lofty  cliffs  or  low  hills  on  the  rght 
bank,  leaving  a  broad.  Hat  belt  on  the  other  shore,  which  it  over- 
flows in  its  floods.      In  its  normal  path   it  is  from  three  <piarters 
of  a   mile    to   two    miles   wide.     In    its    flood,    for  nearl\-    1,000 
miles  from  its  mouth,  it  is  from   10  to  20  miles  wide,  spreading 
much  wider  at  Astrakhan.     Some  of  ihese  bluffs  arc  picturesque, 
var\'ing  from  60  to  100  and  odd  feet  in  height,  in  steep,  rocky 
cliffs,  wa'-'l^ecl  into  grotesque   forms,  and  filled  with  deep  caves. 
Above  tne  bluffs  the  table-lands,  more  or  less  rolling,  stretch  off 
westward,  and  are  the  great  grain  fields  of  the  country.     Near 
Samara,  between  900  and    l,000  miles  from   its  mouth,  tlie  river 
comes  upon  a  little  range  of  mountains,  600  to  800  feet  high.   Tlu-se 
bend  it  nearly  50  miles  due  east,  when  it  breaks  through  the'      uid 
immediately  turns  westward,  making  a  lofty,  narrow  peninsula  of 
the  mountain   range.      Mere  the  scenery  for  100  or  200  miles  is 
fine,  and  a  part  of  it  exceedingly  so,  the  hills  or  mountains  being 
beautifully  wooded. 

Russia  is  said  to  have  no  spring  or  autumn  :  it  jumps  out  of 
winter  into  summer,  from  a  pale  cold  sun  into  one  of  fiercest 
heat.  I  never  felt  a  hotter  sun  than  we  had  on  the  white,  paved 
streets  of  Samara.  We  were  driving,  and  being  desirous  of  seeing 
ihe  town  well,  were  forced  to  be  out  at  noon.  At  one  time  I 
became  anxious  lest  one  of  us  might  receive  a  sunstroke.  Our 
hats  were  covered  with  white  silk  and  our  umbrellas  hoisted,  yet 
the  heat  poured  upon  our  heads  almost  as  if  they  were  uncovered. 
During  the  intense  heat  of  noon  the  people  keep  mucli  in-doors. 
The  Samara  streets  at  that  hour  were  nearly  deserted.  The 
nights  are  so  short  that  work  can  be  commenced  very  early  and 
kept  up  until  ten  o'clock.  All  who  are  able,  take  a  long  mul-day 
sleep.  The  peasants,  however,  seem  impervious  to  heat.  They 
can  be  seen  working  bareheaded  under  the  fiercest  rays.  \  result 
of  these  hot  suns  is  a  growth  of  vegetation  intensely  vigorous, 
which  gives  to  the  fore^-.ts  and  wood-clad  mountains  a  wonderful 
richness  of  verdure.  The  young  shoots  on  the  trees  are  sent  for- 
ward so  rai)idly  and  bear  so  heavy  a  foliage  that  they  droop  and 
hang,  adding  to  the  dense  appearance  of  the  foliage.     Many  of 


i  \ 


442 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


1)  i\\ 


\\  i 


the  forest-trccs  can,  at  this  time  of  the  year,  be  called  weepings. 
The  birch,  linden,  and  some  other  varieties  of  trees,  even  some  of 
the  firs,  have  young  hanging  twigs,  swaying  h'ke  drooping  plumes. 
The  crops  of  the  fields  push  forward  v.  ith  ren.arkable  rapidity. 
Having  passed  over  the  same  latiti'ucs  less  than  a  month  before, 
we  were  enabled  to  measure  the  rapidity  of  growth.  We  stopped 
long  enough  at  several  towns  to  drive  a  few  miles  cut  to  see 
something  of  the  country,  and  occasionally,  througii  break.,  in  the 
bluffs,  with  our  glasses  we  could  see  the  great  rolling,  cultivated 
lands  behind.  These,  with  the  many  villages  along  the  river, 
their  artistic  coloring  free  from  all  glaring  paint  lin  them  the 
weather  alone  applies  the  bru.ih.  and  time  tones  intc  delicious 
harmony)  ;  the  large  churclies,  with  green  domes  and  lolty  belfry  ; 
the  whirling  windmills  behind;  the  great  herds  of  cattlj  at  noon 
at  the  water  side,  and  towards  night  rushing  fi  w  '. /■  n;.  per  lands 
through  clouds  of  dust  down  for  their  evening  l/.it'i  ;  .<,  i'>easants 
in  briglit  red,  mowing  grass  and  making  hay;  a::.i  on  /.unday  and 
on  a  fete  day  crowds  of  people  on  the  banks,  brilii.uit  i'l  red  and 
purple  antl  blue  ;  the  man)'  steamers  met  cutting  tiie  water  at  15 
miles  an  hour;  the  tow-bo. its  with  long  lines  of  barges  swinging 
behind;  the  huge  rafts  with  new.  bright,  and  prettj-  log-houses 
mounteil  upon  them  floating  by;  the  fishermen  landing  nets  or 
wading  out  with  rod  and  line  ;  boys  and  girls  in  little  skiffs  l\'ing 
by  to  catch  a  rock  from  our  steamer's  swell  ;  the  man\'  land- 
ings at  handsome  wharf  boats,  where  crowds  of  people  were 
gathered,  and  women  old  and  grave,  or  \oung  ai'd  laughing, 
peddled  raspberries  large,  red,  and  pulp)',  strawberries  huge  and 
luscious,  or  >mall,  wild,  and  spicy  ;  \cndersof  breail  and  of  cakes, 
and  of  fish  .and  of  bottles  of  fresh  milk  for  our  third-class  pas.;en- 
gers  ;  and  pretty  roguish  girls  ready  to  swear  .1  bottle  of  sour  milk 
was  genuine  tartar  koumiss  ;  men  and  women  in  oddest  di' 
old  women  with  sancals  like  baskets  and  blanket-wrapped  le- s  a; 
large  and  shapeless  as  mill  posts;  well  dressed  men  .and  co'-  .  01  !y 
dressed  men,  all  in  top-boots  wonderfully  wrinkled  al,  wX.  '.\\'^. 
ankles,  and  many  of  them  uith  heels  so  high  that  the  wearers 
seemed  to  be  standing  upon  tiptoe;  Tartars  with  sIkhc"  !',^  >• 
and  beautiful  Astrakhan  brimless  caps,  and  Tart;;,  women  witii 
mantles  drawn  closely  about  the  face;  droskies  ready  to  take  one 
for  a  drive  behind  tough,  fine  horses  ;it  20  cents  an  hour;  news- 
paper-sellers with  a  dozen  papers,  their  full  stock  in  trade,  and 
glad  to  sella  dozen  aday; — all  of  these  things  made  the  run  from 
Astrakhan  to  Nijni-Novgorod  exlreniely  pleasant.  It  is  true  we 
were  a  whole  week  on  the  water,  exclusive  of  the  days  we  h.ilted 
at  cities.  I  came  up  tlu  river  to  write,  and  found  it  difficult  to 
go  within  my  room  and  to  my  pencil.  We  sa'  ■  to-day  i  b  .dutiful 
stern-wheeler,  so  like  home,  of  a  line  runnin  r  5oon::i(  ';igher 
up  the  river  above  Nijni,  that  we  have  ii  e  up  our  niiatib  to 
try  it. 


weepinpf. 

n  some  of 

g  plumes. 

rapidity. 

h  before, 

e  stopped 

lit  to  see 

dt..,  in  tlie 

iiltivated 

the    river, 

them  the 

(lehcioiis 

ty  belfry; 

J  at  noon 

per  lands 

oe.isants 

uiiday  and 

i'l  red  and 

-.Iter  at  15 

s  -iwini^ing 

l(>L'-houses 

11;  nets  or 

kiffs  l\'ini; 

lany   land- 

;oi)le   were 

laughing, 

huge  and 

d  of  cakes, 

ass  pas.;en- 

f  sour  milk 

lest   (li<  -;•; 

)ed   le'  s  ;i. ; 

ai,  ut  i\\n 
he  \\ea,ers 
:i\'on  hj.!'; 
omen  with 
0  take  one 
our;  news- 
trade,  and 
e  run  from 
is  true  we 
;  we  halted 
Ji<lPcult  to 
.'I  bv  AUtiful 
liii  !,igher 
r  m;;-'o  to 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

I'RDM    NIJM    TO    R\'I!INSK    i;V    RIVHK— THKN    liV    RAIL     TO    ST. 

l'ETERSHUR(;— IT/IKKIK)!-,   US    REAlTrFl'I.    1-OUNlAINS— 

ITIK  MEKIT.NG  OF  THE  EMI'ERORS. 

St.  Petersburg,  July  21,  1888. 

I  SAID  that  a  river  had  a  species  of  individualism  which  wins 
and  returns  a  sort  of  sympathy,  ami  sometimes  a  friendship.  The 
Volga  to  a  marked  degree  has  this  cha'-acteristic.  As  the  child  is 
father  to  the  man,  so  is  the  earlier  and  infant  portion  of  this  river 
fatiicr  to  the  mighty  stream  it  so  rapidly  becomes.  With  a  total 
length  of  'z,^?o  miles,  it  is  navigable  for  2,160  odd  by  steamer, 
and  for  1,524  miles  floats  great  double  deckers  and  bears  upon  its 
b  iStMii  a  vast  commerce.  In  its  smaller  upper  stream  it  is  no- 
where a  turbulent  and  boisterous  torrent.  Drawing  rich  and 
copious  aliment  from  the  oozy  flats  among  the  low  Valdai  hills  ami 
the  spong)-  plains  about  them,  it  ([uickly  becomes  a  dignified 
stream.  Its  redtlish-dark  water,  though  clear  in  a  glass,  yet 
almost  black  when  there  is  a  small  depth,  gives  it  an  appearance 
of  ileepness  even  among  its  boggy  sources.  It  is  fed  by  many 
respectable  affluents.  While  it  is  nowhere  turbulent,  it  docs  not 
at  ail}'  point  lie  in  stagnant  pools,  and  very  rarely  can  be  called 
sluggish.  In  its  upper  150  odd  miles,  where  steamboats  do  not 
pi)-,  I  am  told  small  keels  and  flats  can  be  floated,  and  afford  con- 
siderable traffic,  and  little  rafls  come  out  to  make  up  the  great 
floating  islands  of  wood,  which  descend  toward  the  sea,  and  make 
lumber  comparatively  cheap  in  the  vast  steppes  of  the  south. 
Throughout  its  entire  length  the  traveller  feels  safe  upon  its 
bosom.  There  are  no  treacherous,  shifting  bars  and  rapidly 
ciianging  currents;  no  cry  of  boatmen  heaving  the  lead,  or  with 
poles  taking  soundings,  telling  the  half-asleep  voyager  that  he 
ma)-  prepare  for  a  bump.  Xowherc  does  the  steamer  forward  and 
back,  feeling  for  a  safe  channel.  Nowhere  are  there  formidable 
rocks  and  precipices  threatening  to  topple  down,  or  dark  and 
dreary  swamps  breetling  mosquitoes  and  noxious  vapors,  hver)'- 
where  this  great  river  seems  the  friend  of  man.  He  crowds  its 
banks  in  over  1,000  cities,  towns,  and  villages.  Hack  from  its 
borders  one  can  see  in  the  rising,  rolling  plains  hundreds  of  other 
villages  more  or  less  dependent  upon  this  mighty  river  for  food 
and  aid.     So  redundant  is  the  pop.lation  above  Nijni-Novgorod 

443 


m  ■ 


I'l ', 


\ 


1 

m 


«   -i 


Vi, 


,,,  i 


■ax:. I  . 

:P-: 


II  ' 


!;i 


'    'I 


,A 


444 


/i  liACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


that  at  points  the  >'illagcs  along  the  shores  seem  almost  to  run 
into  each  other  for  miles  and  miles,  and  lying  back  are  so  frequent 
that  I  counted  nt  one  time  15  large  ones  in  sight  and  often  six  or 
eight.  Fishermen  are  always  in  sight ;  fishermen  with  long  nets 
worked  from  boats,  and  fishcimen  catching  a  meal  with  rod  and 
line.  I  frequently  watched  the  latter  and  saw  many  a  silvery 
side  glistening  in  the  sun  or  bright  in  the  twilight  as  the  sportsman 
would  throw  the  fluttering  sufferer  through  the  inhospitable  air. 

What  a  cruel  monster  is  man  !  We  descant  on  the  savagery  of 
the  tiger,  the  cruelty  of  the  cat.  Yet  what  do  these  brutes  half 
so  cruel  as  the  angler  does  every  time  he  impales  the  worm  upon 
ic  hook,  or  leaves  the  shining  victim  to  dry  to  death  on  shore, 
.  to  suffocate  in  insufficient  water?  We  eat  tender  veal,  never 
.-linking  of  the  cruelty  meted  out  to  each  little  animal,  tied  by  its 
feet  and  thrown  upon  carts,  cars,  and  steamboat,  and  trundled 
often  very  many  miles  in  horrible  agony.  The  whole  habit  of  the 
common  fowl  shows  that  they  are  fashioned  to  carry  the  head 
erect,  and  yet  we  carry  them  for  hours  head  downward  with  the 
feet  tied  so  tight  as  to  prevent  all  circulation  in  them,  forcing  the 
blood  into  the  head.  Man  is  the  world's  huge  butcher ;  the 
only  one  of  God's  creatures  \\hich  kills  for  the  mere  love  of 
slaying.  If  his  victims  could  only  write  his  character,  he  would  be 
depicted  as  the  most  horrible  of  all  monsters,  and  yet  in  his  van- 
ity he  claims  to  be  made  in  (iod's  image,  and  in  his  egotism 
writes  ethics  and  sings  pagans  in  praise  of  his  own  godlike  nature. 
The  fishes  in  the  depth  of  the  sea,  ami  the  worms  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth  have  no  conception  of  man's  existence.  Perhaps 
there  are,  floating  in  and  peopling  the  pure,  ethereal  realms  sur- 
rounding us,  beings  of  such  transcendental  natures  that  we,  like 
blind  worms,  see  them  not.  If  so,  what  countless  volumes  must 
fill  their  aerific  libraries,  and  what  vast  pictures  must  adorn  their 
transparent  walls,  descriptive  of  man's  inhumanity  to  man  and  of 
his  savage,  wanton  cruelty  to  all  of  earth's  sentient  creatures ! 
We  arc  amused  by  the  colonies  of  pariah-dogs  of  Cairo  and  Con- 
stantinople, fighting  to  prevent  or  punish  encroachments  on  each 
other's  borderlines.  How  our  aerial  neighbors  must  smile  when 
they  look  down  upon  the  million  of  armed  men  marching  and 
counter-marching,  filling  steamboats  and  railway  trains,  to  pre- 
vent some  little  encroachment  upon  the  borderlines  of  Austria, 
Germany,  Roumania,  and  Russia!  We  boast  of  our  own  far- 
reaching  brains,  of  our  freeborn  souls  and  our  liberty-loving 
hearts ;  and  yet,  because  two  kings,  one  an  untried  young  man, 
and  the  other  a  man  of  no  great  force,  are  meeting  out  upon  the 
.sea  and  hobnobbing — smiling  instead  of  growling  at  each  other, 
— the  money  of  Russia  goes  up  ten  per  cent,  in  its  purchasing 
value.  Hah  !  Man  is  not  only  a  cruel  brute,  but  he  is  a  foolish 
one.     But  a  little  fish  has  led  me  into  an  odd  digression. 

Many  of  the  river  steamers  arc  modelled  after  tliose  of  America, 
one  line  using  stern-wheelers.     Below  Nijni-Novgorod  all  seem  to 


STEAMERS  USE  NAPHTHA  FOR  FUEL. 


445 


ost  to  run 
it)  frequent 
ftcn  six  or 
long  nets 
th  rod  and 
a  silvery- 
sportsman 
itablc  air. 
avagery  of 
brutes  half 
vorm  upon 
1  on  shore, 
veal,  never 
tied  by  its 
1  trundled 
abit  of  the 
y  the  head 
d  with  tile 
forcing  the 
teller ;    the 
re  love    of 
c  would  be 
in  his  van- 
is  eg<3tisiTi 
ike  nature, 
the  bowels 
Perhaps 
realms  sur- 
lat  we,  like 
nines  must 
ulorn  their 
nan  and  of 
creatures ! 
o  and  Con- 
Its  on  each 
>mile  when 
rching  and 
ns,  to  pre- 
of  Austria, 
r  own  far- 
crty-loving 
oung  man, 
t  upon  the 
;ach  other, 
purchasing 
is  a  foolish 
n. 

f  Amcric.i, 
\\\  seem  to 


use  refuse  petroleum  for  fuel ;  above,  some  use  wood  ;  coal  I  did 
not  -see  on  the  entire  river.  Petroleum  is  burned  by  throwing  a 
jet  of  steam  through  a  small  stream  of  oil,  thus  breaking  it  into 
spray.  The  jets  for  steam  and  oil  are  in  the  immediate  front 
edge  of  the  fire-box.  A  fireman  controls  his  fire  by  tapping  with 
a  small  mallet  or  gavel  the  faucet  controlling  the  flow,  often  tap- 
ping it  so  lightly  that  he  moves  it  almost  imi)erceptibly.  Through 
a  small  window  in  the  casing  of  the  boiler,  he  watches  to  see  if 
there  be  any  smoke  issuing  from  the  flues,  his  object  being  to 
consume  all  so  as  to  make  no  smoke.  The  boiler-room  is  clean 
and  neat.  The  fire  roars  intensely  and  with  great  heat.  The  oil 
is  held  in  tanks  containing  fron  lo  to  i6  tons.  Oil-barges  over 
lOO  feet  long  are  at  the  piers  of  each  steamboat  line,  and  the  oil 
is  fed  into  the  tanks  by  a  hose.  The  barges  carry  iuige  cisterns 
in  their  holds  containing  many  thousand  puds.  At  various  points 
along  the  river  are  huge  oil-tanks  resembling  gas-holders,  each 
holding  perhaps  i,ooo  tons.  These  are  upon  high  banks,  and  oil 
is  pumped  into  them  from  the  river  barges,  and  fed  from  them 
into  railroat!  cisterns  or  other  land  conveyances.  At  one  town  I 
counted  39  of  these  great  tanks.  They  belonged  to  several  of  the 
great  Baku  refining  companies.  Kerosene  is  sent  all  over  the 
land  where  reached  by  rail  in  cisterns,  and  not  in  barrels.  At 
Kazan  the  best  kerosene  costs  but  seven  or  eight  cents  a  gallon. 
One  result  of  this  cheap  burning  fluid  is  that  at  night  towns  along 
the  river  look  as  if  illuminated  for  some  gala  occasion,  the  houses 
being  so  universally  and  brilliantly  lighted. 

From  Nijni-Novgorod  to  Rybinsk,  306  miles,  we  came  on  the 
Alabama,  stern-wheeler — slow,  but  comfortable.  We  did  not 
object  to  the  want  of  speed,  for  the  trip  was  enjoyable  and  very 
pleasing.  There  were  none  of  the  high  mountains  nor  steep 
cliffs  which  are  occasionally  seen  on  the  lower  river,  and  which,  at 
a  few  points,  give  a  scenery  bordering  upon  the  grand,  but  there 
were  high  hills  and  all  was  home-like,  of  Russian,  not  of  English 
or  American  stamp,  for  there  were  no  farm-houses  or  country 
villas,  but  a  succession  of  villages — often  nearly  continuous.  The 
immediate  banks  being  low,  we  could  look  over  long  reaches  of 
rising  ground,  with  waving  fields  and  meadows,  the  latter  now  gay 
with  the  variegated  costume  of  the  peasants,  red  predominating; 
vill.iges  nestled  everywhere  ;  copses  of  wood,  now  and  then  good- 
sized  forests,  and  back  of  all,  from  6  to  15  miles  awa>',  the  sum- 
mit of  uplands  crowned  by  wood,  village,  and  church  domes. 
Many  of  the  villages  are  dominated  by  large  domed  and  belfried 
sacred  edifices  ;  some  of  the  domes  gilded,  but  generally  green  or 
blue,  and  here  and  there  the  latter  bespang.'-H  ith  gilded  stars. 
We  passed  some  large  factories,  which,  af'.er  twilight,  were  bril- 
liant with  Edison's  electric  lights.  The  m  )st  picturesque  objects, 
however,  were  the  great  monasteries — va^t  piles  with  splendid 
churches,  domes  gilded  or  of  azure  blue,  t  \rrets  and  colonnaded 
cloisters,  covering  many  acres,  generally  on  commanding  points. 


\ 


\ 


n 

m 


MS 


I- 


M 


•■i 


m 


V 


446 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


'■fA 


mA. 


II 


:!  y 


l;V 


<  « 


I: 


or  on  promontories  projecting  out  into  the  placid  stream.  These 
monasteries  are  very  rich,  and  are  surrounded  or  backed  by  ;^rcat 
domains  in  field  and  meadow,  with  comfortable  villages  half  hid- 
den in  wooded  copse.  The  monasteries  arc  so  large  and  rich  in 
appearance  that  they  give  td  the  upper  Volga  a  scenic  effect 
delicious  and  pleasing. 

The  villages,  from  our  steamer,  looked  comfortable,  houses  of 
wood — many  of  the  pretty  log  style^with  steep  roof  of  thatch, 
kept  in  place  by  poles.  Windmills  are  abundant,  lo  to  15  often 
close  together,  throwing  their  weird  wings  in  rounded  circles 
above  the  low  cottages;  then  over  the  back  country  and  cutting 
the  horizon  on  the  distant  upland,  these  spectral-winged  monsters, 
whirling  in  tlie  lessening  twilight,  add  greatly  to  the  pleasing 
picture.  No  paint  gives  garish  white  or  tawdry  coloring  to  the 
villages,  but  all  is  .-esthetic  and  soft,  the  weather  alone  softening 
ail  down  into  delicious  harmony.  Herds  of  cattle  here,  as  indeed, 
all  along  the  river,  are  bathing  in  the  hot  noon. 

Several  of  the  cities  are  very  picturesque  from  the  river. 
Yaroslav  and  Kastroma  we  had  time  to  drive  into.  In  the 
former,  which  has  a  population  of  only  about  28,000,  there  are  73 
churches.  It  was  once  the  capital  of  a  free  province,  as  Kastroma 
for  a  few  years  was  of  all  Russia.  In  the  hitter  there  is  a  mon- 
astery nearly  1,000  years  old,  with  a  quaint  old  church,  and  with- 
in its  walls  the  little  house  in  which  Michael,  the  first  of  the 
Romanoffs,  lived  as  a  refugee  before  the  crown  was  tendereti  iiim. 
His  house  is  a  little  bijou  affair,  preserved  religiously  as  he  left  it. 
The  monks  sliow  with  great  jiride  many  of  the  czar's  relics,  rich 
vestments  in  brocade  and  pearls,  and  goblets  of  solid  gold.  The 
wealth  of  the  churches  and  of  the  monasteries  of  Russia  is  vast  ; 
some  say  it  would  g(7  a  long  way  in  paying  off  the  country's  debt. 
It  would  take,  however,  many  tons  of  gold  and  silver,  and  bushels 
of  pearls  and  precious  stones  to  pay  off  a  debt  of  $2,500,000,000. 

At  Rybinsk  we  took  rail,  ran  through  a  low  country  of  bog  and 
partially  cultivated  lands,  with  great  woods  of  birch  and  pine.  It 
being  Sunday,  we  saw  hundreds  of  peasants  at  the  stations — come 
to  see  the  railroad  train,  the  women  prob.ibly  to  look  with  round- 
eyed  pleasure  at  the  well  dressed  lady  passengers,  who  promenade 
the  platforms  when  the  trains  stop  for  a  few  moments.  The 
peasants  seemed  poor,  but  not  discontented.  We  saw  hundreds 
when  driving  in  the  outskirts  of  Rybinsk  coming  into  town  for 
the  holiday.  The  women  all  were  barefooted  witli  their  Sunday 
shoes  over  their  shoulders,  to  be  donned  before  entering  the 
crowded  streets.  Nature  patches  uj)  the  soles  of  their  feet,  but  a 
cobbler  alone  can  fix  those  of  their  shoes.  The  everj--day  shoe  of 
the  peasant  is  a  sandal  of  plaited  bark :  but  it  seems,  from  what 
we  can  see,  that  the  man  treats  himself  to  a  pair  of  boots  long 
before  he  gives  leather  to  his  wife.  Throughout  Russia  high  top- 
boots  are  almost   universal.     Officers  and    upper  classes  all  wear 


"piNi' 


im.  These 
;d  by  s^reat 
:s  half  hid- 
and  rich  in 
enic   effect 

,  houses  of 
of  thatch, 
lO  I  5  often 
Jed  circles 
.nd  cutting 
I  monsters, 
e  pleasing 
ing  to  the 
;  softening 
.  as  indeed, 

the  river. 
).  In  the 
liere  are  73 

Kastroma 
."  is  a  nion- 
,  and  with- 
rst  of  the 
dered  iiini. 
s  he  left  it. 

relics,  rich 
;okl.  The 
sia  is  vast  ; 
itry's  debt, 
nd  bushels 
X),ooo,ooo. 
of  bog  and 
d  pine.  It 
ins — come 

ith  round- 
jromenade 
-•nts.  The 
'  hundreds 

0  town  for 
eir  Sunday 
tering  the 
feet,  but  a 

lay  shoe  of 
from  what 
boots  long 

1  high  top- 
es all  wear 


THE  CZAR  AN  AUTOCRATIC  FATHER. 


447 


them,  and  only  the  middle-class  city  man  is  shod  in  shoes.  The 
laborers,  when  sufficiently  well  off  to  drop  the  sandal,  take  to  boots, 
never  to  shoes.  The  boots  are  all  of  varnished  tops  and  made 
so  as  to  wrinkle  closely  about  the  ankles,  and  are  washed  when 
soiled.  Boots  and  shoes  arc  made  of  uncolored  leather,  and  when 
finished  are  varnished  black.  High  heels  are  foolishly  affected — 
so  hif^h  that  many  in  walking  seem  to  suffer  from  corns,  and  often 
the  well  dressed  lady  minces  along  in  a  very  ungraceful  gait. 

The  country  after  striking  the  great  Nicholas  railroad  from 
Moscow  continued  low,  except  through  the  Valdai  Hills,  wnich 
rise  to  600  and  800  feet.  Thence  to  St.  Petersburg  this  great 
trunk  line  traverses  a  wooded  country  with  a  cold,  thin  soil  only 
partially  cultivated.  The  road  was  not  laid  out  for  local  trafific, 
out  as  a  military  highway  between  the  two  capitals.  The  cele- 
brated order  of  Czar  Nicholas,  who,  when  asked  how  he  wished 
the  road  to  run,  replied  by  taking  a  ruler  and  drawing  a  straight 
line,  bears  repetition  here.  The  track  is  as  nearly  a  bee  line,  as 
possible,and  isgratefuUy  so  to  travellers,  for  the  trainsglidc  along 
it  almost  without  any  jar  or  even  crepitation.  I  do  not  recall  any 
road  which  seems  as  smooth. 

We  have  now  been  in  St.  Petersburg  six  da>-s,  doing  the  capital 
at  our   leisure,  and    enjoying  an  almost    continued  day,    for   at 
1 1   o'clock   one    can  read  by  the   twilight,    and    a  broad   dawn 
covers  a  quarter  of  the  northern  hemisphere  at  midnight.    Thurs- 
day, the    19th  of  July,  we  visited  Peterhof,  about   20  miles  from 
the  city,  seeing  the  great  imperial  residence,  and  at  the  same  time 
witnessing  the  meeting  and  landing  of  the  emperors  of  Russia  and 
Germany.     I-'or   a  week    or  two    the  London    Times   and   other 
western   papers  have  been  talking  of  the  meeting  of  these  two 
rulers,  yet  not  until  four  days  ago  was  it  even  alluded  to  by  the 
St.    Petersburg  papers,   and  then    only  meagrely.     It   would  be 
amusing  if  it'werc  not  distressing  to  see  how  the  people  of  this 
capital  have  to  go  to  papers  published  so  far  away  for  information 
as  to  what  passes  or  will  pass  directly  under  their  noses.     For  ex- 
ample, I  noticed  a  strong  platform  being  built  around  the  Alexan- 
der monument  in  front' of   the  Winter  Palace.     I  inquired,  but 
could  not  learn,  its  purpose.     To-day  I  learn  its  object  from  the 
London  Times  of  three  days  ago.  The  government  does  not  appear 
to  think  the  people  have  any  interest  in  its  doings.     Ukases  are 
published,  but  not  discussed  beforehand.     The  publication  is  the 
first  information  the  general  public  has  that  a  law  is  even  thought  of. 
Gen.  Annenkoff  lately  finished  the  Transcaspian  railroad  to  Sam- 
arcand.     Russians  with  whom  we  have  travelled  told  us  they  ex- 
pected him  now  to  become  one  of  the  big  men  of  the  country,  but 
how  they  had  no  idea.     Two  daj-s  ago  it  was  announced  by  the 
Times   he   had   been    given    the   diamond    order  of   Alexander 
Novsky,  the  highest  in  the  land.     The  public  did  not  know  what 
the  proceedings  at  Kronstadt  and  Peterhof  connected  with  the 


:; 


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448 


//  i?^C/;'  /F/7V/  J'jyj':  .SC'.V, 


meeting  of  the  emperors  were  to  be  until  the  da)'  before  they  took 
place.  The  emperor  is  the  father  of  his  people  and  presumesthey 
will  be  satisfied  with  whatever  he  in  his  parental  love  will  do  for 
their  good  ;  and  so  far  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover  that  his 
children  are  not  satisfied  with  this  order  of  doing.  T^ey  never 
discuss  politics,  at  least  with  foreigners,  except  as  to  the  relations 
of  Russia  with  foreign  lands.  Then  there  is  not  much  reticence. 
I  have  not  seen  one  inlclligent  man  who  does  not  declare  that  a 
free  outlet  into  the  Mediterranean  is  a  jwlitical  necessity,  and  that 
they  want  ami  must  have  unrestricted  trade  with  all  of  Asia. 
They  say  they  tlo  not  want  India,  but  they  desire  free  roads  and 
free  commerce  with  that  land,  and  they  have  a  general  impression 
that  English  rule  in  India  is  galling  upon  the  natives. 

Peterhof  is  the  residence  of  the  czar.  He  occupies  the  palaces 
in  the  capital  only  for  short  periods  each  year  during  the  gayeties 
of  the  winter  season.  His  so-calleil  country  residence  is  a  pretty 
though  not  grand  palace.  He  resides,  however,  even  there  in  a 
fine  villa  residence  and  not  in  the  true  I'eterhof  palace,  which 
stands  upon  an  elevation  of  "o  to  80  feet,  overlooking  a  beautiful 
park  of  some  four  or  so  miles  in  length  along  the  bay  lying 
between  the  mainland  and  Kronstadt,  five  or  more  miles  off.  The 
park  is  broken  and  not  over  a  thiril  of  a  mile  in  width — perhaps 
not  over  a  c[uarter, — and  is  finely  wooded  and  prettily  laid  out 
with  drives  and  gravelled  walks.  Immediately  in  front  of  the 
centre  pavilion  of  the  palace  an  alley  is  cut  through  the  woods 
down  to  the  beach,  here  hardly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off.  Thisalle)-, 
less  than  100  feet  wide,  is  flanked  by  tall  firs,  running  up  in  spire 
forms.  In  the  centre  of  the  alley  runs  a  .stream  or  canal  of  water 
confined  between  granite  walls,  and  not  over  60  feet  in  width, 
leading  down  to  the  beach,  spanned  by  three  pretty  bridges,  and 
ending  upon  a  small  walled-in  harbor,  with  pretty  landing 
pavilion,  from  which  the  royal  household  takes  the  imperial  yacht 
when  it  goes  upon  the  water.  Immediately  under  the  palace  the 
head  of  the  alley  spreads  to  200  feet,  after  having  drop])ed  from  the 
terrace  on  which  the  building  stands,  down  to  the  canal  or  stream 
below.  This  descent  is  fashioned  into  a  beautiful  system  of 
marble  steps,  with  waterfalls,  fountains,  and  jets  supported  by  30 
or  more  statues  of  life-size  in  burnished  gilt  and  supporting  jets 
<l'cau.  The  .statues  are  in  double  rows,  the  two  inner  ones  in  a 
line  with  the  walls  of  the  stream  leading  down  to  the  sea-shore. 
At  the  foot  of  the  terrace  is  a  large  circular  basin,  50  to  100  feet 
in  diameter,  with  a  gilt  statue  of  several  times  life-size,  holding  a 
tlolphin,  whose  mouth  is  a  jet  throwing  up  a  stream  of  80  feet, 
and  surrounded  with  many  smaller  jets.  Along  the  walls  of  the 
canal  which  runs  seaward  are  rows  of  fountains  with  lofty  jets 
throwing  50  feet  liigh,  mingling  their  sprays  with  the  branches  of 
the  fir  trees.  Flanking  the  large  fountain  at  the  foot  of  the 
terrace  are  two  other  fountains  of  very  large  size,  with  beautiful 


re  they took 
cHiimesthcy 
J  will  do  for 
/cr  that  his 
T^cy  never 
he  relations 
:h  reticence, 
clare  that  a 
ity,  and  that 
all  of  Asia, 
e  roails  and 
1  impression 

the  palaces 
the  "^aycties 
•  is  a  pretty 
■n  there  in  a 
alacc,  which 
J  a  beautiful 
;  bay  \v'\n<^ 
iles  off.  Tile 
Lh — pLMha{)s 
ily  laid  out 
front  of  the 

the  woods 
.  Thisallc}-, 
;  up  in  spire 
nal  of  water 
■t  in  width, 
)ridges,  and 
;ty  landing 
perial  yacht 
e  palace  the 
)ed  from  the 
al  or  stream 

system  of 
orted  by  30 
porting  jets 
■r  ones  in  a 
ic  sea-shore. 
I  to  100  feet 
e,  holding  a 
I  of  80  feet, 
walls  of  the 
:h  lofty  jets 
branches  of 
foot  of  tlie 
th  beautiful 


T//E  BEAUTY  OF  PETERIIOF. 


449 


sprays,  and  below  them  two  marble  houses  30  feet  high,  with 
gilded  domes  and  fan-like  fountains  pouring  over  their'' golden 
sloping  roofs.  Altogether  there  are  more  tlian  100  fountains  or 
jets  immediately  in  view  from  the  terrace  above.  The  great  one, 
called  "The  Samson,"  throws  its  water  80  feet  up;  and  30  more 
spout  in  spreading  spray  about  50  feet ;  the  others  from  10  to  30- 
the  majority  of  tiiem  vertically ,  others  at  angles.  Looking  from  the 
upper  terrace  down  upon  this  system  of  jJts  d'eau  aiid'lilong  the 
marble  walks  below,  filled  with  brilliantly  dressed  i)eople,  the'lofty 
sprays  mingling  with  the  foliage  of  the  trees,  and  the  calm  sea  seen 
silvery  in  the  sunlight  through  the  clean-cut  allev,  we  had  a 
picture  of  surpassing  beauty  ;  or  looking  up  from  the  lower  end 
of  the  marble  canal,  through  the  jets  and  to  the  dazzling  terrace, 
over  the  lOO  fountains,  one  could  feel  as  if  it  were  the  creation  of 
a  fairy's  wand.  The  waters  at  Versailles  are  larger  than  these,  but 
far  less  artistic  in  design. 

This  scene  we  had  time  to  enjoy,  and  through  it  was  to  be  con- 
veyed the  young  Kmperor  of  Germany  on  his  royal  visit.  It  was 
expected  the  czar  would  reach  this  little  harbor  with  his  guest  at 
three  o'clock,  and  the  empress  and  her  suite  and  many  high  offi- 
cials,  in  flashing  court  uniforms,  were  in  the  pavilion  at  that  hour. 
We  soon  found  that  there  would  be  some  hours  to  wait.  We 
whiled  away  our  time  walking  about  the  parks  and  inspecting  the 
long  lines  of  guards  and  young  cadets  who  lined  the  drives  along 
which  the  emperors  must  pass,  and  in  watching  the  thousands  of 
people  gathered  to  do  honor  to  their  country's  guest.  We  heard 
German  constantly  spoken  about  us,  showing  that  the  subjects  of 
William  II.,  or  the  czar's  Courlanders,  were  out  in  full  force. 
Hour  after  hour  passed,  and  it  was  about  five  when  we  saw  in  the 
distance,  near  Kronstadt,  a  puff  of  smoke  from  one  of  the  men- 
of-war  drawn  up  in  line.  Soon  the  whole  line  of  ships,  stretched 
apparently  for  miles,  was  blazing  away.  We  could  not  hear  a 
cannon's  report,  but  we  could  see  the  firing.  I  suspect  it  gave  us 
an  idea  of  what  an  old-fashioned  naval  fight  in  line  of  battle 
looked  like.  It  was  not  long  before  every  ship  was  enveloped  in 
smoke,  and  nothing  was  seen  but  a  thick  veil  rolling  away  to  the 
southward.  Presently  my  glass  showed  a  steamer  with  a  lofty  white 
flag,  emerging  from  the  smoke  cloud  and  headed  for  Peterhof, 
and  when  I  saw  the  tidy,  trim-looking  empress  standing  alone  in 
the  open  hall  of  the  pavilion,  with  her  glass  levelled  at'it,  I  knew 
she  was  looking  toward  her  imperial  lord.  On  either  side  of  the 
pavilion  on  the  pier  there  were  long  lines  of  seamen,  in  clean,, 
white  uniforms.  These  began  to  .show  a  stir,  and  when  the 
steamer  was  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  a  couple  of  cannon  were  fired 
by  them  in  the  regulation  salute,  and  not  long  after  the  emperor's 
yacht  steamed  to  the  pier.  The  gang-plank  was  run  out,  and  the 
burly,  towering  autocrat  of  all  the  Russias  mounted  it,  affection- 
ately embraced  his  lovely  wife,  and  presented  his  guest.     Having 


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y*  i?^C^  IF/T//  THE  SUN. 


witnessed  tliis,  we  hurried  back  so  as  to  get  a  position  from  which 
wc  could  closely  sec  the  two  men  who  wield  the  destinies  of  so 
many  millions  of  human  beinj^s.  There  was  some  shouting,  but 
by  no  means  enthusiastic,  as  the  emperor  entered  the  drives  lined 
with  peojle. 

First  came  the  imperial  open  carriage,  drawn  by  four  handsome 
black  horses.  Alexander  wore  a  Prussian  helmet,  and  made  no 
acknowledgment  of  the  salute  of  the  people.  I'oliteness  accorded 
the  reception  all  to  'his  guest.  The  Kmperor  of  Germany  was 
uncovered,  and  bowed  to  the  right  and  left.  I  was  not  over  ten 
feet  away  from  him  as  he  slowly  crossed  one  of  the  little  bridges, 
and  was  glad  to  see  a  decidcdlj-  good-looking,  bright  face,  with  a 
pleasant  expression,  not  lacking  in  intellectual  ciiaracteristics, 
and  withal  of  much  strength.  The  next  carriage  held  Prince 
Henry  and  the  czarowitz,  both  in  lively  and  laughing  chat.  The 
prince  was  uncovered.  I  would  have  known  him  at  once  from  a 
picture  in  the  Cirapliic  when  he  was  married.  The  Mmpress  of 
Russia  and  one  lady  were  also  in  a  four-horse  carriage.  She  was 
cheered  with  very  considerable  enthusiasm,  anil  her  warm-looking 
face  evinced  real  pleasure  at  it.  While  not  a  beaut)',  she  is  de- 
cidedly pretty  ;  has  fine  dark  eyes,  rich  complexion,  full  lips,  and, 
I  should  judge,  could  love  deeply  and  hate  not  wisely.  Our  old 
friend,  the  drand  Duke  Alexis,  was  alone  in  his  carriage,  as  hand- 
some as  ever,  quite  gray,  and,  I  learned,  a  great  favorite  with  the 
people.     He  is  the  admiral  of  the  Russian  navy. 

I  could  not  help  feeling  a  sort  of  admiration  for  the  Kmperor 
of  Germany — admiration  for  his  \'onderful  position,  so  young 
and  with  such  power  for  good  or  for  woe  to  so  many  millions. 
As  he  passed,  the  thought  flashed  across  my  brain  :  "  ^'(nl  look 
strong  and  brave  ;  you  have  in  your  hands  the  d'"stiny  of  Kurojie 
for  years  to  come.  It  groans  beneath  the  tramp  of  millions  of 
men,  banded  and  trained  to  destroy.  What  will  you  do  with 
them  .'  Kings  have  boasted  that  with  a  stamp  of  the  foot  they 
could  set  armies  in  motion  and  hurl  them  against  the  world.  Will 
you  not  invent  a  new  royal  boast — the  boast  that  with  a  stamp  of 
your  foot  you  disbanded  armies  and  spread  over  a  suffering  world 
a  panoply  of  peace  ?  So  many  kings  have  worn  the  laurel  and  the 
oak  for  wreaths  that  their  leaves  are  hardly  an  honor.  Cannot 
William  of  Germany  deck  his  brow  with  an  olive  leaf — a  unique 
crown  for  a  king?  The  world  has  had  so  many  military  heroes 
that  it  has  groaned  beneath  their  weight,  but  so  few  really  wise 
rulers  in  peace.     Can  you  not  be  a  leader  of  the  few  ?  " 

Of  all  the  infatuations  of  mankind,  to  me  the  strangest  is  its 
worship  of  the  soldier  and  its  admiration  of  bravery.  Uravery  is 
so  common,  so  animal,  and  withal  almost  universal.  Europe  to- 
day has  several  millions  of  soldiers.  A  coward  among  them  would 
be  a  rare  exception,  except  in  a  panic.  Few  soldiers  have  the 
xrourage   to    show    themselves    cowards — the    moral    courage    to 


from  whicli 
itinic.s  of  so 
uniting,  but 
drives  lined 

ir  liandsomc 
nd  m.'ulc  no 
L'ss  accorded 
or  many  was 
lot  over  ten 
ttlc  liridgcs. 
face,  with  a 
iractcristics, 
held  Prince 
;  chat.  The 
once  from  a 
I'.mpress  of 
e.  Slie  was 
arm-looking 
ty,  slie  is  de- 
uU  lips,  and, 
ly.  Onr  old 
ige,  as  hand- 
rite  with  the 

;he  Kmperor 
II,  so  j-oung 
my  millions. 
"You  look 
ly  of  Kurope 
f  millions  of 
you  do  with 
lie  foot  thev 
•world.  Will 
h  a  stamp  of 
ffering  world 
lurel  and  the 
lor.  Cannot 
af — a  unique 
ilitary  heroes 
w  really  wise 
?  " 

rangest  is  its 
Bravery  is 
Europe  to- 
T  them  would 
iers  have  the 
1    courage    to 


YA  AMERIKANETS. 


45  > 


enable  them  to  brave  the  contempt  of  their  fellows.  The  com- 
monest one  will  march  up  to  a  cannon's  mouth.  Not  one  in  a 
thousand  would  turn  and  run  when  the  bugle  sountls  for  a 
charge.  And  >-et  the  world  bows  before  a  soldier,  and  bends  the 
neck  to  the  tread  of  one  who  happens  to  be  at  the  head  of  an 
army  when  it  performs  some  mighty  feat  of  slaying. 

I  could  not  catch  the  features  of  the  czar  as  he  passed  us.  He 
was  next  us,  and  kept  his  face  too  much  towards  his  guest  for  me 
to  see  more  than  a  glimpse  as  the  carriage  came  up.  lie  is  very 
tall,  ami  now  quite  fleshy  ;  looked,  with  his  epaulets  and  helinet, 
a  giant  by  the  side  of  the  well  knit  but  rather  v.iulersized  kaiser. 
The  drive,  along  which  passed  the  long  line  of  s  ilcndid  carriages, 
with  coachmen  and  footmen  in  cocked  hats  and  c)vcred  with  gold 
lace  and  braid,  with  their  occupants,  officers  in  'jri.'l'ant  uniforms, 
was  guarded  by  soldiers,  placed  apparently  les.=  fc  r  protection 
than  for  keeping  tiie  foot-people  from  pressing  too  close,  and  a 
part  of  it  being  the  guard  and  battalion  of  young  cadets.  The 
whole  made  a  handsome  picture,  especially  as  the  cortege  crossed 
the  bridge  over  the  canal,  along  which  the  white  spray  of  fountains 
was  washing  the  branches  of  the  green  trees.  Desiring  to  see  the 
czar  closely,  I  walked  up  to  the  palace  directly  after  the  cortege 
had  passed  the  bridge,  while  the  carriages  took  a  roundabout 
line.  An  officer  was  at  the  steps  mounting  the  terrace  at  the 
waterfall,  and  turned  all  away  from  it  except  a  few  men  in  uni- 
form and  some  finely  dressed  ladies,  i  touched  my  hat,  saying: 
"  Ya  Amerikanets  "  (I  am  an  American),  with  a  gesture  showing 
I  desired  to  ascend.  Whether  he  understood  my  Russian  or  not 
I  do  not  know.  At  any  rate  I  mounted,  with  the  conscious 
dignity  of  being  an  American  sovereign.  This  declaration  of 
mine,  "  I  am  an  American,"  has  given  me  many  opportunities  for 
.seeing  things  denied  to  others.  I  shall  take  out  a  patent  for  the 
thing,  for  it  is  quite  as  effective  for  me  here  as  Paul's  declaration, 
Civis  suui  Roiiiaiuis,  was  to  him  nearly  19  centuries  ago. 

To-day  the  grand  military  review  was  held  at  Krasnoc-Szelo. 
We  did  not  go  out,  for  we  would  h-  ^.^  been  kept  back  with  the 
mob,  and  would  have  seen  but  litt'.  )>  real  advantage.  Yester- 
day I  was  told,  by  one  who  ought  to  know,  that  a  drive,  expected 
to  be  taken  by  the  czar  and  emperor,  was  changed  because  of 
some  Nihilistic  rumors  in  the  air.  Big  men  here  arc  quite  as 
easily  scared  by  rumors  of  this  sort  as  they  are  in  Chicago,  where 
anarchist  ghosts  are  constantly  bobbing  up  before  some  people's 
visions.  This  afternoon  the  great  street,  Nevsky  Prospekt,  was 
lined  with  people  who  expected  the  emperor  to  pass.  The 
crowd  waited  long,  and  finally,  nearly  three  hours  after  they  were 
expected,  and  during  which  time  one  half  of  the  driveway  was 
kept  clear  by  the  police,  an  open  carriage,  followed  by  three  or 
four  others,  came  along  in  a  brisk  trot.  Emperor  William  and 
Prince  Henry  were  in  the  front,  and  bowed  their  salutations  to  the 


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people.  Rut  the  czar  was  not  there.  Was  it  "etiquette"  uliicli 
j)rcveiitctl  liiiM  from  accompaiiyinj,'  his  imperial  puest  on  his  drive 
to  see  tin;  city,  or  M-as  there  some  truth  as  to  the  Niiiilistic  rumor? 
I  felt  a  satisfaction  in  the  fact  that  the  (jerman  was  not  afraid  to 
go  where  he  was  announced,  even  if  his  host  was  less  willing  to 
trust   his  subjects. 

The  cz.ir  occasionallv-,  hut  rarely,  drives  throut^h  the  streets, 
goin;^  to  a  church,  or  for  some  other  purpose,  but  it  is  never 
known  in  advance  what  way  he  is  ^^oin^r.  The  villainous  murder 
of  his  kiiul  father,  the  best  friend  tiiat  liberty  had  had  in  Russia, 
is  enou^^h  to  make  the  son  feel  somewhat  anxious,  but  I  doubt  if 
lie  be  wise  in  hoidin;^  himself  so  aloof  from  the  people  as  he  does. 
A  king  wins  confidence  by  showin;^  it  himself.  There  may  be 
madmen  who  wouKl  atten^pt  to  repeat  the  cruel  act  which  took 
Alexander  II.  off,  but  such  madmen  are,  however,  i)est  disarmed 
by  being  ever  watchful  and  on  the  alert,  ami,  at  the  same  time, 
showing    them    that    they    are    not    feared.  e    assassin    is    a 

coward  at  heart.     To  avoid  him  helps  to  mn  n  less  a  cowanl. 

A  bold,  fearless  front  makes  him  more  aiu  _  a  coward.      1 

lifted  my  liat  with  a  feeling  of  increased  respect  for  the  brave  anil 
cheery-looking  young  German  Emperor  when  he  drove  b)'  me  this 
afternoon,  with  no  apparent  guard  other  th.m  the  good-will  and 
hos[)itality  of  his  entertainers.  The  people  of  this  country  have 
already  received  from  him  large  benefits.  Every  dollar's  worth 
of  gooils  exported  from  Russia  brings  back  ten  per  cent,  more  of 
return  than  it  did  a  few  weeks  ago,  bef'ire  he  announced  his  visit 
to  the  czar,  h'ive  weeks  ago  I  received  for  my  English  .sove- 
reigns 1 1 A  roubles  ;  last  week  I  could  only  get  TO^.  The  trusting 
act  of  William  in  driving  unattended  through  the  streets  of  this 
great  capital  called  forth  many  kindl}' expressions  from  its  jieople, 
and  he  received  evidence  of  their  rtspect  in  a  generous  cheering 
and  universal  removal  of  hats. 

\Vhat  may  be  the  political  effect  o  his  visit  time  alone  will  tell. 
Wise  newspaper  men  abroad  are  giv  iig  out  their  learnetl  opinions 
in  tones  worthy  of  Malvolio.  They  say  it  means  nothing,  but  I, 
who  am  rather  an  optimist  in  political  matters,  prophesy  that 
good,  very  decided  good,  will  grow  o.it  of  it. 


cttc  "  wliich 
on  liis  drive 
listic  rumor? 
lot  afraiil  to 
ss  williiisj  to 

thr  streets, 
:  it  is  never 
nous  murder 
id  in  Russia, 
It  I  doubt  if 
e  as  he  does. 
lero  may  be 
t  wliicli  took 
est  disarmed 
c  same  time, 
ssassin  is  a 
ess  a  coward. 
I  coward.  I 
he  brave  and 
,'c  by  me  tiiis 
;()o(l-will  and 
lountry  have 
oliar's  worth 
:ent.  more  of 
iced  ids  visit 
^nj^iish  sove- 
Tlic  trust  in"' 
trcets  of  this 
111  its  people, 
ous  cheering 

lone  will  tell, 
net!  opinions 
•tiling,  but  I, 
rophcsy  that 


I 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

ST.   I'KTKRSnUKC— POI.ITKNKSS    AM)    (iOOD  NATURK  OK    rill'.   KUS- 

.SIANS— SUI'F.K  II  ( iAI.I.K  K I KS— 1 1 K  K  M  ri'A(  iK— W I NTK  1<   1' A 1  .ACK 

—WINTER  REVEI.RV— ST.   ISAAC'S  (11 IRCII— ll.LUMI- 

NAITON  Al'   I'KII:kII()I-. 

IVi/iori;,   I-'inlaiul,  July  26,    18S8. 

I  HAVE  always  had  a  va;^ue  inii)ressio(i  tiiat  Peter  the  Great  was 
somewiiat  daft — that  he  was  a  sort  of  a  lunatic  luar,  who  ima- 
gined he  could  create  a  miL,dit\- empire  and  rule  it  from  his  ice-cave 
home  up  near  the  polar  sea.  His  otld  sayin^^s  and  (nldcr  doings, 
read  of  when  I  was  a  boy,  gave  me  this  impression  ;  ami  nothinLj 
was  more  conducive  to  the  formation  of  the  idea  than  his  deter- 
mination to  build  a  mighty  and  permanent  city  on  the  (juagmire 
at  the  head  of  the  Gulf  of  I'inland,  where  every  thing  was  frozen 
up  for  nearly  nine  months  of  the  year,  and  where,  during  the  next 
three,  an  outraged  sun  hatclied  mosquitoes  into  fierce  beasts  of 
prey.  But  since  I  have  seen  St.  Petersburg,  and  have  been  an 
eye-witness  of  its  grandeur,  and  have  seen  so  much  of  the  vast 
country  of  which  it  is  the  capital,  I  have  been  more  than  ever  con- 
finned  in  another  of  my  theories — that  lunacj'  and  genius  are,  if 
not  one  and  the  same,  at  least  twin  brothers.  Men  are  in  the 
habit  of  saying  that  to  the  eye  of  genius  things  unfold  themselves 
with  crystal  clearness,  while  to  the  ordinary  mind  they  are  cloudy, 
if  not  muddy.  I,  however,  have  an  idea  that  one-eyed  genius 
sees  the  things  which  throb  in  the  brain  behind,  and,  lacking  the 
lights  of  judgment,  is  not  turned  to  the  right  or  the  left  by  those 
arguments  of  reasc.i,  which  hold  other  and  more  rounded  brains 
bridled  and  in  check.  The  poet  utters  the  thought  which  burns 
in  his  frenzied  brain.  His  words  are  deep  chiselled  into  marble,  and 
ring  throughout  all  time.  The  same  thought  has  run  through 
a  thousand  steadier  brains,  but  judgment  whispered  :  "  This 
is  fustian,  souiul,  and  fur\',"  and  the  thought  was  not  formulated 
into  words  ;  but  when  these  same  steadier  brains  afterwards  heard 
it  from  the  poet's  lips,  it  comes  home  to  them  and  awakens  echoes 
in  the  soul,  and  they  bow  down  before  the  genius  who  uttered  in 
madness  what  they  themselves  have  a  thousand  times  felt  but 
dared  not  clothe  in  words.  Lear  and  Hamlet  were  madmen,  but 
Shakespeare — Ignatius  says  B.icon — gave  words  to  their  mad- 
dened thoughts,  and  sent  them  seething  down  into  the  souls 
of  millions  of  calmer  men,  who  recognized  them  as  echoes  of  their 

453 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


I 


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iri; 


i     «!' 


I''/ 


own  moments  of  ;iL;on\'  am'  sorrow.  They,  Iiowevcr,  suffer  and 
arc  silent.  It  was  Voltaire,  I  think,  who  j;ave  nearly  the  same 
idea  when  lie  said  :  "  Le  genie — e'est  raiidace."  Madman  or 
genius,  Peter  drove  a  pile  lUnvn  into  the  cjuivering  bog  on  the 
banks  of  the  Neva,  and  swore  that  on  it  he  would  build  a"  house 
with  ,1  window  through  wliich  he  could  look  out  into  I'UiropL'." 
His  counsellors  dareil  not  expostulate,  f<ir  it  was  a  dangerous 
thing  to  thwart  tiie  will  of  the  autocrat.  What  is,  is  right.  The 
steadfast  rock  gathers  moss,  and  around  its  base  natiue  heaps  up 
sands.  Intiomitable  will  and  despotic  force  l.iid  the  foundations 
of  this  cit}-  ;  the  i)cople,  but  earthworms,  bored  .ibout  among  the 
rocks  antl  cut  them  into  shifting  sands,  which  grew  and  grew 
about  Peter's  cottage.  'I'hev  dug  canals,  which  unite  t!ie  Neva 
through  the  Volga  with  the  White  .Sea  of  the  north  antl  the  far- 
off  Caspian  of  the  south,  and  married  these  distant  waters  to  the 
H.dtic  of  the  west.  And  St.  I'etersburg,  the  creation  of  mad 
Peter's  will,  c.dm,  dignified,  and  grand  in  the  twilight  dawn  of  a 
summer's  midniglit ;  brilliant  antl  dazzling  in  tin-  snows  and  burn- 
ing lights  of  the  long,  g.iy  nights  of  winter;  with  its  palaces  in 
majestic  piles,  and  tenijjles  and  churches  with  rounded  domes  cut 
upon  the  blue  sky  ;  its  great  factories  :\nd  business  houses;  its 
many  ri\er  branches  and  canals,  through  which  clear  water  pours 
in  massive  volume  ami  rapid  current,  lined  witli  granite  ([uajs  and 
spanneil  by  InnumerabK.'  bridges:  with  its  broad  jiaved  streets, 
along  which  thousands  of  vehicles  are  alwa\'s  rattling  ;  its  wooded 
gardens,  fdled  with  beautiful  houses  and  gay  p.iviHons ;  its  long 
colonnades,  its  statues,  and  monuments;  its  i  undreils  of  steamers 
darting  up  and  down  its  many  water-ways  ;  and  its  thousands  of 
barges,  loadeti  with  wares  of  many  l.uids-  St.  Petersbuig  sits 
here  between  Lake  I.agoila  and  Finland's  (julf.  apparently  so  fit- 
tingly placed  that  the  cynical  genius  of  Voltaire  would  scarcely  be 
able  to  ask,  as  it  did  of  Herlin  :  — "  I^elle  ville,  (jue  fais  tu  la?' 

This  cit\-  is  generall\-  sjioken  of  as  handsome  ;uul  regularly 
built,  with  long  rows  of  palati.il  edifices,  handsome  in  detail,  but 
monotonous  and  lacking  i>ictures(|ueness,  becau^-e  of  tiie  regu- 
larit\'.  This  is  an  unjust  criticism.  There  is  nothing  of  the 
quaintness  seen  in  the  old  (ierman  towns,  with  which,  1  sus])ect, 
travellers  have  in  their  mindsniade  comparisons.  There  is,  however, 
much  which  is  picturestpie,  but  all  in  modern  ;;t\-Ie.  Along  the 
Neva  the  grt;at  si/e  of  the  public  ed.ifices  so  .arrests  attention  th.it 
one  is  apt  to  ilwell  too  long  U[)on  the  single  structure.  .\  coup 
dUril,  however,  gives  much  of  variety,  and  brings  out  much  for 
relief  in  the  ilifferent  styles  of  architecture;  and  the  v.irious  tint- 
ings,  all  neutral,  are  ver\'  restful  to  the  eye.  I-',vi.'rywheri'  there 
is  a  general  air  of  strength  and  <ligm'tv,  and  along  the  quay  f(.r  a 
mile  or  more  the  i)icture  is  one  of  imperial  grandeur  and  niagm*!- 
ccnci'.  A  topijgr.iphical  outline  of  the  city  v.ill  probably  not  be 
out  of  place. 


1  '■  ■'    . ; 

1  '  ' 

OUTLINE  OF  ST.  FETf^RSBURG. 


455 


'cr,  siiffcr  and 
rly  the  same 
Niadmaii  or 
,f  b(ig  on  the 
uild  a  "  house 
iito  luiropc." 
a  (Jangcrous 
s  liijlit.     The 
ture  heaps  up 
c  foundations 
ut  anionj^r  t.lie 
c\v  and  ;^n-o\v 
lite  t'nc  Neva 
h  and  tlie  far- 
waters  to  tile 
it  ion   of  mad 
lit  dawn   of  a 
ows  and  burn- 
its  prdaces  in 
ed  donu's  cut 
s  houses  ;   its 
r  water  pours 
itc  (|ua\s  and 
laved   streets, 
T ;   its  wooded 
ions ;   its  lontj 
tls  of  steamers 
liiousands  of 
etersburL^  sits 
)areiilly  so  fit- 
dd  scarcely  be 
ais  tu  la  ?  ' 
aiul  regularly 
in  detail,  but 
of   tii<'   regu- 
)thing   of   the 
ich,  1  -aispect, 
re  is,  however, 
:.     Along  the 
attention  that 
ture.      A  (oup 
out  niueli  for 
e  v.irious  tint- 
rywhere  there 
he  (]uay  f(,r  a 
r  and  niagni^- 
obably  not  be 


The  river  Neva,  rising  in  Ladoga,  the  large-t  of  European 
lakes,  Hows  southwesterly  and  then  northwesterly,  striking  St. 
Petersburg  about  40  miles  from  the  lake.  It  then  i)ends  ilue 
nortli  for  a  mile  or  so,  and  making  a  short  curvi  .  runs  due  west 
for  another  mile,  when  it  separates  into  two  brancnu.-.,  one  flowing 
southwesterly,  the  other  north  and  then  westerly,  into  the  bay, 
two  miles  and  two  and  a  half  miles  respectively  from  the  point 
of  sei)aration.  The  points  where  these  two  branches  strike  the 
sea  arc  about  two  and  a  half  or  three  miles  ajiart.  ."^oiitli  of  the 
main  river  and  the  southerly  br.mch  lies  the  bulk  of  the  city,  with 
the  palaces  and  the  finest  of  tlie  public  cdiilces.  Between  these 
two  branches,  and  springing  out  of  them  are  several  (Hher 
branclK-S,  some  broad  and  deep,  also  emi)tying  into  the  b.ay, 
and  forming  five  or  six  great  islanils,  varying  in  size  from  200 
acres  up  to  perhajis  1,000,  and  one  much  more.  The  three 
main  streams  vary  in  witlth  from,  say  Soo  to  i,-;oo  feet. 
These  islands  are  cut  by  small  running  canals  into  many  smaller 
islands.  The  more  northerl)-  ones  are  covereil  with  villas  and 
wooded  g.ird'iis,  and  one  or  two  of  them  with  parks  of  considerable 
size,  over  vvhich  run  fine  gravel  roads,  along  wliich  rural-looking 
villas  are  prettily  dotted.  Through  the  main  city,  which  lies 
south  of  the  river,  run  three  or  four  deep  canals  of  loo  or 
so  feet  in  width  and  ^panned  by  many  handsome  bridges  at 
streets  intersecting.  These  canals,  as  well  as  those  on  the  islands, 
bcml  about  in  wanton  manner.  On  them  run  small  steamers  or 
?tc;'.ni  barges,  carrying  passengeis  at  a  cent  a  mile,  or  less,  and 
cr<iwd^  of  large  barges,  loadetl  with  every  character  of  fri'iglit,  and 
carrying  it  almost  to  the  doors  of  the  warehouses.  1  s.iy  almos, , 
for  streets  run  along  the  canals  on  both  sides,  and  of  greater  or 
less  width.  i\ll  of  the  river  branches  have  rajiid,  and  the  canals 
fair  currents  of  dark  bog  water — of  water  colored  by  pine  lands 
and  sw.unps,  not  puri'  enough  for  jjotable  ])ur|K.ses.  but  consid- 
ered surtlcii'utly  so  for  bath-liouses,  many  of  wliich  float  on  the 
main  branches  and  on  the  canals  of  the  islands,  and  ipiite  a  num- 
ber on  the  canals  which  intersect  the  m.iin  city.  The  watei  of 
the  main  branches  is  drunk.  The  city,  however,  is  providetl  with 
drinking-w  .ler  from  above  the  tow  n,  and  the  streets  are  sjjrinkled 
b\'  movable  hose  ili:'  -tly  from  the  street  hydrants,  which  throw 
with  a  strong  head. 

All  streits  are  \  av'il,  mostly  with  small  cobble,  kept  in  con- 
stant repair,  and  ilraiiud  l)y  an  underground  sxsteni  of  sewi;r- 
age.  The  more  prominent  streets  are  partially  paved  with 
wooden  blocks — that  is,  with  a  band  or  bards  1  ■;  to  20  feet  of 
l)locking,  the  remainder  on  either  side  witn  cobble.  N'evsky 
I'rospekt,  one  of  the  great  streets,  and  the  nio-;t  prominent  one 
for  ret. ill  business  j)urposes,  has  ;i  roadw.  y  of  90  feet  divided 
into  fuc  narrower  ways;  the  outer  ones  cobbled,  then  two  of 
blocks,   and   the   niidiUe,   in   which    the  tramway   runs,  cobbled. 


x 


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fl 


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i: 


t    1 

m 


^^ 


If  J ' 

» 


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i 


fi 


vl     I 


lilt 


)lv 


/    ;■ 


7 


! 

1- 

r 

1: 

1       .-1  ' 

1 

i 

'i'mi 

45<S 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


The  blocks  are  laid  together  closely  in  exact  hexagons,  upon  two- 
by  eiglit-incli  boards,  tarred  and  laid  an  inch  apart,  spiked 
strongly  to  six  by  eight  sills  solidly  bedded  into  the  soil  below, 
the  whole  drained  by  lines  of  eight  by  ten  troughs,  leading  into 
man-holes.  The  cobbles  are  fitted  closely  together,  and  then  the 
interstices  are  filled  with  very  small  broken  granite,  and  with 
sand  tiuown  an  inch  deep  over  all.  The  tramway  or  street-car 
rails  are  grooved,  with  the  bearing  flange  an  inch  and  a  half 
wide  ;  the  inner  flange,  about  a  half  inch  wide,  and  laid  absolutely 
flush  with  \)\c  pavement.  This  is  a  cold  climate  with  long  winters 
and  deep  snows,  and  I  am  told  there  is  no  difficulty  in  keeping 
the  grooves  clear,  and  I  know  that  carriages  pass  across  the  rails 
at  all  sorts  of  diagonals  without  any  difficulty  or  unpleasant  jerk- 
ing. American  cities  should  force  street-car  companies  to  use 
the  groove  rail.  It  would  save  a  great  amount  of  damage  to  the 
running  gear  of  wagons,  and  would  enable  light  vehicles  to  cross 
safely  anil  without  wrenching  wheels.  The  horse-cars  on  two  of 
the  tramway  lines  connect  quite  in  the  thick  of  the  town  with 
cars  ])ropelled  by  steam.  They  are  heated  by  coke,  and  are 
as  noiseless  as  the  horse-cars,  and  do  not  frighten  horses  in  the 
least. 

Street  gutters  and  sewer  openings  are  so  located  that  street 
intersectii>ns  are  ilush  with  the  sidewalks.  Street-repairers  are 
constantly  at  v>ork.  The  authorities  understand  that  a  stitch  in 
time  saves  nine,  and  that  the  excellence  of  a  street  is  not  in  hav- 
ing it  well  built  first  so  much  as  keeping  it  in  thorough  repair 
afterward. 

St.  Petersburg  has  a  ])opulation  of  950,000.  We  were  told  by 
some  of  its  citizens,  whom  we  met  at  various  points  before  reach- 
ing it,  that  every  one  was  out  of  town  during  the  summer;  that 
we  would  find  the  heat  opi)ressive,  the  dust  bad,  the  moscjuitoes 
intoleraljle,  antl  the  Hies  a  nuis.uice  ;  but  that  in  the  winter  it  was 
glorious,  a  sort  of  p..;adise  in  snow,  where  the  people  have  a  con- 
tinuous carnival  on  ice.  Judging  by  what  we  saw  of  things  con- 
nected with  winter,  there  must  be  every  concomitant  necessary 
to  make  it  joyous.  The  houses  are  well  built,  with  thick  w.iUs. 
and  everywhere  double  windows  hung  permanent))'  and  fitting 
closely.  The  sleighs  .ire  ])retty  anil  in  great  vaiitties.  Tlie 
horses  are  tough,  well-formed,  sufficiently  speedy,  and  of  wonder- 
full)- good  tempers.  1  h)thouses  have  been  bruugiit  to  perfection, 
and  one  now  sees  in  windows  melons  so  sweit  that  one  almost 
imagines  that  thej'  CfMivey  their  ()dor  through  the  sense  of  sight  ; 
grapes,  ptaehes,  and  flowers,  palms,  and  ferns,  of  r.iri.-  perfection. 
And  in  winter,  1  am  told,  there  is  a  va-t  profusion  of  hot-house 
plants.  The  summers  are  so  short  that  out-door  flowers  are  not 
at  all  relied  on,  but  hot-houses  are  abundant  and  finely  n.ianaged. 

Willie  has  been  in  a  state  of  desperation  throughout  our  long 
journejings  in  Russia  because  he  had  not  seen  over  two  or  three 


,  upon  two- 
irt,  spiked 
soil  below, 
;adint^  into 
(J  then  the 
,  and  with 
•  street-car 
md  a  half 
absolutely 
mg  winters 
in  keeping 
ss  tlie  rails 
asant  jerk- 
lies  to  use 
lagc  to  the 
es  to  cross 
on  two  of 
town  with 
:;,  and  arc 
irses  in  the 

that  street 
paircrs  are 
a  stitch  in 
not  in  hav- 
ugh  repair 

.Me  told  be- 
fore reach- 
liner;  that 
u<is(iuitoe.s 
liter  it  was 
lavc  a  ccjii- 
:hings  con- 
necessary 
hick  walls, 
lud  fitting 
ties.  The 
of  wonder- 
perfection, 
ane  almost 
e  of  si'^ht  ; 
|)erfection. 
hot-house 
crs  arc  not 
'  managed. 
L  our  long 
.o  or  three 


2JI£  JiUSSlAN  A  POLITE  MAxV. 


very  pretty  women,  and  very  few  who  were  not  positively  homely. 
But  from  his  frequent  ejaculations  as  we  walked  the  streets  or 
mingled  with  the  crowds  in  and  about  St.  Petersburg,  such  as 
"Ah,  there!"  Ah,  there!  my  beauty,"  "Ah,  there!  my  size,"  I 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  czar  has  attracted  nearly  all 
of  Russia's  beauty  to  the  capital.  Willie  tells  me  that  there  are 
as  many  pretty  women  in  it  as  he  has  seen  anywhere,  except  at 
Buda-1'esth.  The  men  are  generally  polite  and  pleasant.  They 
lack  etiquette  ;  but  of  that  politeness  which  has  its  origin  in  the 
heart  they  have  a  great  deal.  One  form  of  etiquette  is  through- 
out Russia  absolutely  universal.  A  man  never  enters  a  house 
(except  a  station)  without  removing  his  hat.  This  habit  may 
perhaps  have  grown  out  of  the  fact  that  every  house — indeed, 
almost  every  room  and  shop — has  its  "  Ikon,"  or  holy  image. 
Men  uncover  on  entering  a  room,  taking  it  for  granted  that  they 
go  into  the  presence  of  a  sacred  emblem.  This  is  done  mi  the 
post-office,  in  the  vestibule  of  galleries  and  court-houses,  in  the 
commonest  butcher  shop,  in  the  little  store-room  where  the  attend- 
ant, perhaps  a  little  girl,  could  carry  off  all  her  goods  in  a  half- 
dozen  half-bushel  baskets.  Men,  too,  lift  their  hats  to  each  other 
very  sedulously.  I  have  seen  pilgrims  in  dirty  rags  with  tattered 
sandals,  knapsack  and  rough  staff,  accost  each  other  on  a 
thoroughfare  by  first  removing,  in  studietl  form,  their  filthy  looking 
sheepskin  caps. 

All  smoke  cigarettes,  and  delight  to  hold  a  gallon  of  carbon  in 
their  lungs  and  then  roll  it  out  like  sleam  from  a  'scape-pipe.  In 
southern  Russia  nd  the  Caucasus  the  women — matrons,  and 
even   some  iinm-  ones — smoke  almost  as  universally  as  do 

the  men.  I  have  ...n..  '  \o  •■'•  three  times,  nicel\  dressed  ladies 
step  up  to  me  in  a  railru.i.l  on  ur  on  the  platform  and  beg  of 

me  a  light.  I  supjiose  tiu>  .uo-''  from  my  having  a  cigar,  from 
which  a  better  light  could  be  udA  than  tiom  the  cigarette  of 
another.  In  northern  Russia  and  at  .St.  Petersburg  I  have  seen 
but  two  women  with  cigarettes,  and  one  of  them  vas  a  princess. 
I  am  tokl  comparatively  few  qnoke  here.  I  am  glad  that  villain- 
ous habit,  which  John  Bull  is  carrying  .iround  the  world,  of  ram- 
ming his  hand  into  his  pocket  for  a  match  when  asked  for  a  light, 
instead  of  handing  )-ou  his  burning  cigar,  is  not  in  vogue  here. 
When  I  ask  for  alight  I  do  not  ask  for  a  m.^tch.  I  wish  that 
which  costs  the  giver  nothing,  wherea^^  ■  '■  iie  goes  down  into 
Ids  pocket  he  takes  trouble  for  me,   ano  s  me  something  of 

fixed  value  when  he  hands  me  a  match.  lliere  is  a  sort  of  L^ood- 
fellowship  in  the  loan  of  a  light.  There  is  a  polite  insult  when 
a  man  gives  )-ou  a  match,  for  he  virtually  says  :  "  I  have  a  good 
cig;ir,  and  I  do  not  wish  it  poi-^oned  by  your  weed."  The  use  of 
tobacco  is  at  best  nast>-.  There  is,  however,  a  sort  of  free- 
masonry in  the  mingling  of  smoke  and  loaning  a  "chaw."  I 
always  liked  the  feeling  which  would  make  a  Southern  gentleman 


' 


l\'- 


r 

ft 


t 


: 


Ti  ill 


u 


,t 


i; 


,1  !  h  ' 


!  i       I, 


J.= 


li 


ll    1 


¥  P\ 


Jl 


W^'! 


'til!;  I* 


458 


A  RACE  WITH  TUB  SUN. 


take  tobacco  from  an  old  darkey,  who  always  begs  tobacco,  even 
when  jiis  pocket  is  full.  I  have  seen  a  negro  pull  from  his  greasy 
pocket  a  plug  and  hand  it  to  a  gentleman,  who  would  bite  off  a 
good  "  chaw,"  and  never  insulted  his  sable  friend  by  picking  off 
the  outside  dirt.  A  Russian  gives  and  takes  a  light  freely  from  a 
stump. 

Our  journcyings  of  over  5,500  miles  in  Russia  have  been  a 
revelation  to  me  in  many  things.  First,  as  to  the  capabilities  of 
this  vast  country;  the  enormous  stretches  of  land  whose  produc- 
tiveness is  unequalled  by  any  other  ;  the  depth  of  the  soil;  the 
rich  underlying  clays  in  the  south  and  middle  provinces,  render- 
i''g  famine-producing  drought  impossible ;  the  breadth  of  the 
wooded  districts  of  the  nortli  ;  the  .systems  of  rivers  of  deep  cur- 
rents and  witliout  rapids  permeating  the  whole  country  in  such  a 
manner  that  snort  canals  can  connect  them  and  make  water 
communication  almost  continuous  from  the  Arctic  Sea  to  the 
Black,  from  the  ]5altic  far  into  the  foot-hills  of  the  Ural  moun- 
tains. But  above  all  it  has  been  a  revelation  as  to  the  character- 
istics of  the  people.  I  knew,  from  many  I  had  previously  met  in 
Continental  wanderings,  that  the  upper-class  Russian  was  an 
elegant  gentleman,  but  I  thought  the  middle  and  lower  classes 
were  uncouth,  rough,  ill-tempered,  ;;nd  bordering  upon  the  brutal. 
How  different  have  I  fouml  them!  I  have  mixctl  with  them  in 
crowds,  when  working,  when  worshipping,  whc  1  idle  and  when 
busy,  and  when  drunk;  have  watched  crowds  of  jieasants  and 
great  gatherings  of  \\ell-to-do  citizens  on  steamboats,  in  crowded 
railway  stations,  anil  in  packed  railroad  cars,  and  if  ;i  .ked  what 
are  the  most  marlced  characteristics  of  the  whole  people  I  would 
reply:  Amiability  and  kindliness.  Tliey  are.  moreover,  charita- 
ble. I  have  seen  them,  again  and  again,  turn  back  to  give  in 
small  charity  to  beggars  and  to  needy  ones  whom  they  had 
passed  unnoticed  by  the  wayside.  The  importunities  of  beggars 
do  not  seem  to  annoy  them,  as  is  the  case  among  most  people. 
Too  many  in  our  favored  huul  give  to  the  poor  and  hel])less,  not 
cheerily  and  for  the  sake  of  helping,  but  rather  to  get  rid  of 
them,  and  then  with  an  air  of  one  casting  a  bone  to  a  ilog.  Men- 
dicants throng  the  vestibules  and  entrances  to  churches  here, 
showing  that  it  is  of  men's  piety  they  ask.  With  us,  and  in  Kng- 
land,  they  throng  the  doors  of  theatres  and  other  places  of 
amusenient,  as  if  expecting  help  from  the  protlgical  and  the  care- 
less. Perhaps  they  avoid  our  churches  because  the  ministers  have 
a  corner  on  the  charity  of  the  pious.  1  have  been  surjirised  b\- 
the  numbers  of  all  classes  who  give  with  kindly  air  to  the  poor 
supplicants  at  church  doors,  in  the  towns  and  cities  we  have 
visited.  One  sees  evidences  of  tin's  amiability  in  many  ways  ;  all 
seem  especially  kind  to  children  ami  to  animals. 

J5irds  are  almost  as  genti  here  as  they  are  in  l.idia,  where 
Buddhism  has  taught  that  the  soul  of  an   ancestor  or  a  relative 


I 


THE  RUSSIAN  A  GOOD-NATURED  ANIMAL.      459 


Dacco,  even 
1  his  greasy 
bite  off  a 
picking  off 
\jc\y  from  a 

ive  been  a 
)abilities  of 
jse  protluc- 
e  soil ;  the 
:es,  render- 
Llth  of  the 
f  deep  cur- 
/  in  such  a 
lake  water 
3ea  to  the 
Jral  moun- 
;  cliaractcr- 
jsly  met  in 
m  was  an 
iver  chisses 
the  brutal, 
til  them   in 

and  when 
asants  and 
in  crowded 
[  -.ked  what 
)le  I  would 
er,  charita- 
to   give   in 

tluy  had 
of  beggars 
)st  people. 
jl])less,  not 
get  rid  of 
log.  Men- 
■ches  here, 
nd  in  Kng- 

places  of 
d  the  care- 
istcrs  have 
irprised  by 
o  the  poor 
:s  we  have 
'  ways  ;  all 

dia,    where 
a  relative 


may  be  in  the  body  of  some  dumb  creature,  and  where  charity  to 
the  brute  is  taught  as  a  religious  duty.     Crows  hop  along  the 
road  within  a  few  feet  of  passers-by.  Hirds  of  all  sorts  perch  ui)on 
telegraph  wires,  and  do  not  fly  until  the  wind  made  by  the  train 
ruffles  their   feathers.     Pigeons  fly  down   among  drosky-drivers, 
and  are  frequently  so  close  to  me  that  I  try  to  touch  them  with 
my  cane.     Dogs  trot  the  streets  with  their  tails  curled  over  their 
backs,  as  independent  as  wood-sawyers,  and  I  am  told  rarely  ever 
fight.     I  have  not  seen  any  thing  bordering  upon  a  fight  between 
men,  and  yet  I  have  seen  thousands  drunk.     Give  a   Russian  an 
accordion  and  he  is  happy  and  too  good-natured  to  kill  a  flea.     I 
mentioned    these   things  to  a  very  intelligent    gentleman.     He 
laughed  and  said  ;  "  Why,   1   have  been   in   many  lands,  and  I 
believe  we  have  the  most  amiable  people  that  exist,  and  their 
amiability  has  gone  down  among  all  their  domestic  animals.   Our 
men  rarely  quarrel  and  never  fight  ;  our  dogs  d(jn't  snarl  or  bite, 
and  our  horses  won't  kick."     I   rejoined  :  "  And   yet  you   have 
Nihilists  !  "    "  Ah,"  he  said,  "  have  you  not  noticed  the  better  the 
woman  the  worse  she   becomes  when  she  falls?     Your  amiable 
man,  when  he  turns  lunatic,  is  your  fiercest  man.     In  old  Greece 
there  was  a  sect  of   philosophers  who  proved  by  arguments,  to 
their  own  satisfaction  at  least,  that  there  was  no  such   thing  as 
material  existence ;  that  all  materialism  was  but   the  figment  of 
the  imagination.     Our  scholastic  students  have   reasoned  them- 
selves  into   the   belief  of  Nihilism.     They  are  philosophic  mad- 
men."   "And  like  every  other  disease  it  must  run  its  course  until 
thrown  off  by  a  better  growth,"  I  added.     "  1  am  afraid  so,"  he 
rejoined,  with  a  sigh.     T!ie  love  of  flowers  seems  universal  here. 
It  pervades  all   classes  throughout  the  entire   country  we  have 
passed.     In    cities,  towns,  and  villages,  dwelling-house  windows 
are  filled  with  flowers — in  first  anil  second  stories, — and  often  so 
full  that  they  look  like  conservatories,  and  at  every  country  station 
children  sell  wild  flowers. 

I  said  something  about  dogs.  That  reminds  me  that  we  have 
seen  in  all  jjarts  of  Russia  so  far  visited,  dogs  of  all  breeds,  and 
apparently  pure.  Setters  and  pointers  of  beautiful  make,  mon- 
ster St.  Bernards,  and  spaniels,  and  poodles,  greyhounds  and 
pugs,  turns|)its,  shaggy  dogs,  and  smooth-haired  dogs,  all 
we'll  kept  and  on  most  kinilly  footing  with  the  people.  The 
kindliness  to  the  brute  creation  seems  to  have  been  acquired 
by  the  close  relations,  long-continued,  of  the  Russians  with  their 
Asiatic  neighbors.  Tiiis  brings  ne  back  to  another  Oriental 
peculiarity  of  tliLSc  people.  That  is  the  disposition  of  merchants 
to  congrejgate  in  great  bazaars.  Every  city  has  its  one  or  more 
large  establishment  of  this  kind  ;  many  of  them  being  ele- 
ga.it,  and  all  picturesque.  In  them  every  character  of  mer- 
chandise can  be  bought,  from  a  baby  doll  up  to  a  threshing- 
mac/iinc,  and  in  all,  goods  are  displayed  in  Oriental  colorings. 


SI 


i'l 


11' 


m 

M 

Ml 


'•  '. 


■V 

m 


460 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


/J 


\l 


Several  of  the  bazaars  of  St.  Petersburg  are  monster  affairs  and 
built  with  an  eye  to  architectural  beauty.  On  Ncvsky  Pros- 
pekt  is  one  with  a  front  of  700  feet  by  ti  depth  of  over  1,400 
on  the  two  cross,  and  backini^  on  a  rear  street.  It  is  two  stories 
high,  with  a  central  and  two  end  ])avilion;  on  each  street,  and  a 
handsome  columned  portico  in  fron^  of  eacli  central  pavilion,  and 
arched  two-story  colonnades  on  the  four  fronts.  It  is  divided 
into  a  great  number  of  small  shops  on  the  first  story,  ami  into 
store-rooms  above  and  store-houses  in  the  rear.  Close  to  this  arc 
several  others,  nearly  as  large,  with  ornamental  fixed  iron  awnings 
over  the  sidewalks.  The  ground  of  the  principal  one  belongs  to 
the  city,  the  others  to  wealthy  noblemen.  The  ground  owners 
built  the  houses  on  fixed  and  fine  plans,  and  then  sold  the  houses 
to  individual  proprietors,  reserving  an  annual  leasehold  rental. 
There  has  been  a  general  disposition  throughout  the  city  to  build 
in  great  blocks  and  divide  them  up  for  the  several  business  pur- 
poses, thus  giving  it  a  stately  and  imperial  appearance.  Tiiere 
are  no  open  store  fronts,  as  in  America.  This  makes  tlie  blocks 
appear  more  like  palaces.  The  hotel  we  stopped  in,  on  the  cor- 
ner of  Nevsky  Prospekt,  and  near  the  handsome  Miciiael  P.iiace, 
is  a  splendid  four-story  edifice,  with  a  frontal  of  636  feet.  With 
the  exception  of  a  few  of  the  great  i)ublic  buildings,  and  one  or 
two  churches,  all  structures,  public  and  private,  are  of  brick  plas- 
tered in  Portland  cement  ;  some  are  white,  but  tiie  majority  are 
ycllowisii-brown,  salnuMi,  peach-blow,  and  other  delicate  neutral 
tints;  blue  and  green  being,  I  think,  entirely  avoided.  The  public 
edifices,  palaces,  admiralty,  etc.,  along  the  quay  cover  a  length  of 
about  a  mile,  and,  together  with  others  behind  them,  a  depth  of 
perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  Ik-sides  these  there  are  many  other 
.state  structures  anil  palaces  scattered  throughout  the  city  on  both 
banks  of  the  river.  The  imperial  i)alaces  are  not  used  as  such 
now,  but  are  devoted  to  galleries,  museums,  schools  of  art,  acad- 
emies of  science,  engineering,  etc.  They  are  generally  of  great 
size,  three  or  four  stories  high,  and  of  elegant  though  not  elabo- 
rate architectural  design. 

The  museums  and  art  collections  arc  rich  in  their  contents,  and 
of  vast  value  both  to  the  student  and  to  the  amateur.  One  cm 
with  profit  spend  days  and  days  in  the  "  Hermitage."  The  col- 
lections of  coins  are  unequalleil  elsewhere.  Ca-^e  after  ca-^e  of 
antique  seals  and  e.xquisitely  cut  stones  and  cameos  are  bewilder- 
ing, nearly  all  with  fine  impressions  in  wax  or  plaster,  showing 
the  delicate  design  and  artistic  finish.  Room  afti-r  room,  anil 
some  of  great  size,  are  filled  with  statuary,  antique  and  modem, 
and  many  of  them  of  highest  merit,  and  vast  n-.noers  of  Etrus- 
can vases.  Grand  halls,  lofty  and  perfectly  lighted,  have  on  their 
walls  nearly  2,000  pictures,  all  good  and  many  of  tiiem  clicfs- 
d\ruvre.  Two  or  three  hundred  of  tlum  are  masterpieces  of 
Raphael,  Correggio,  Domenichino,  Leonardo  da  V^inci.  Carlo  Dolce, 


i(    f  ' 


f\      i     >  t  I  . 


WONDERS  OF  ART. 


461 


ffairs  and 
iky  Pros- 
vcr  1,400 
o  stories 
<-'t.  and  a 
ilion,  and 
>  divided 
and  into 

0  this  are 

1  awnings 
elongs  to 

owners 

le  houses 

d   rental. 

to  build 

ness  |)ur- 

'.      Tliere 

le  blocks 

1  the  cor- 

-•1  Talace, 

t.     With 

id  one  or 

rick  plas- 

jority  are 

L-  neutral 

lie  i)ublic 

length  of 

depth  of 

Miy  otlier 

.'  on  both 

I  as  such 

art,  acad- 

of  great 

lot  elabo- 

ent-^.  and 
One  can 
The  col- 

r  ca-^e  of 

bew  ilder- 
siiow  ing 

loni,  ami 
modern, 

)f  I-^trus- 
on  their 
in  clicfs- 

)ieces  of 

lo  Dolce, 


Guide,  Van  Dyck,  Tenicrs,  Ruysdael,  Rembrandt,  and  other 
great  painters,  but  above  all  of  Murillo.  I  have  never  seen  so 
many  works  together  of  this,  to  me,  unapproachable  master. 
There  are  a  few  fine  ones  scattered  in  different  European  collec- 
tions, which  had  caused  me  to  admire  him  even  .above  Raphael. 
But  here  there  are  about  20,  all  in  one  room,  in  admirable  light, 
and  three  or  four  of  them  of  grandest  character.  There  is  a  rich- 
ness of  tone,  borrowed,  I  suppose,  from  Moorish  blood,  in  his 
pictures  shown  by  no  other  artist.  Raphael's  Madonnas  arc  too 
pure  for  motherhood.  They  are  artless  girls  who  never  dreamed 
of  guile  antl  were  never  touched  by  a  human  passion.  They 
nurse  the  Cin-ist-chiUl  as  an  angel  who  never  touched  earth  would 
fondle  a  pure  scintillation.  But  Murillo's  Mary  is  a  woman 
with  a  woman's  heart,  overflowing  with  love,  full  of  unborn  pas- 
sion, a  passion  that  might  have  been  fearfully  tempted  had  not 
the  all-seeing  eye  watched  over  it,  and  the  whispered  counsels  of 
invisible  angels  directed  and  angels'  hands  guided  it  into  paths  of 
celestial  purity.  Murillo's  Mother  of  God  was  a  woman  who 
gave  to  her  child  the  human  passions  which  enabled  him  to  feel 
for  the  woes  of  man,  and  to  sympathize  with  him  in  his  human 
struggles  ;  gave  to  him  a  humanity  which  made  him  bear  his 
cross  in  agony,  and  to  sweat  great  drops  of  blood,  and  to  cry  out 
in  human  woe  as  he  gave  up  the  ghost.  The  heartstrings  of 
Raphael's  Mary  would  have  snapped  at  the  sight  of  intense  suf- 
fering ;  but  Murillo's  Mary  suffered  and  bore  as  only  a  woman 
can  suffer  and  bear,  and  when  *he  moment  of  sublimation  came, 
she  ascended  into  heaven,  still  a  woman,  but  a  woman  turned  into 
a  saint  and  borne  upon  angels'  wings,  fanned  and  elevated  by  the 
breath  of  God  toward  her  eternal  throne.  Close  together  here 
one  can  gaze  for  hours  on  his  two  masterpieces,  inferior  to  those 
of  no  arti-t,  and  equalled  only  by  Raphael's  at  Dresden.  All  the 
schools  of  art  are  fully  represented  in  this  noble  gallery,  and  most 
masters  have  in  it  some  of  their  finest  pieces. 

Adjoining  and  united  by  an  arched  gallery  to  the  Hermitage 
is  another  magnificent  structure,  the  vast  Winter  Palace,  with 
great  halls  and  noble  stairways,  beautiful  marble  pillars  in  great 
profusion,  loft\-  conservatories,  and  a  royal  chapel  1,  which  rich 
Oriental  taste  seems  to  have  tried  to  exhaust  itself  in  heaping  up 
gold  and  jewelled  wealth.  In  this  little  chapel  one  has  the  ex- 
quisite satisfaction  of  seeing  the  dried  hand  and  wrist  of  John 
the  Baptist,  a  picture  of  the  Virgin  painted  by  St.  Luke,  and  a 
piece  of  the  original  cross.  Luke's  colors  were  not  of  the  fast 
kind,  for  an  eye  of  faith  is  required  to  enjoy  the  purity  of  the 
lineaments  of  his  immaculate  subject.  This  palace  has  brilliant 
specimens  of  malachite  columns  and  mantels  .ind  cabinets,  lapis 
lazuli  vases,  and  mosaics  unsurpassed  except  in  the  Vatican. 
Here,  too,  is  Peter's  gallery,  with  his  private  cabUi^ts,  his  lathe 
and  working-tools,  his  diamond  snuff-boxes  and  jewelled  swords, 


I 


!  .' 


\  iB' 


J 


\ 


Midi 


"■^'{Mi 


J/ 
I  s  s  ■.  4  ■ 

m 

W 
m 


46» 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


Iff  I    f):ii 


his  clothes,  miniatures,  and  bric-a-brac.  A  strange  mixture  of 
imperial  wealth  and  plodding  industry  !  One.  however,  is  brought 
nearer  to  the  great  Peter  in  the  cottage  across  the  river,  in  which 
he  lived  while  laying  the  foundations  of  the  capital.  There  one 
sees  the  old  imperial  carpenter  and  shipwright  in  close  and  familiar 
quarters.  I  was  boy  enough  to  seat  myself  in  a  chair  of  his  make 
— a  sort  of  combined  seat  and  writing-desk  which  he  used,  and  in 
which  I  doubt  not  he  often  took  a  nap.  I  know  most  people 
will  say  how  silly !  Ikit  they  must  know  I  have  adopted  as  a 
motto:  "  'T  is  folly  to  be  wise." 

One  of  the  very  attractive  features  of  the  galleries  of  St. 
Petersburg  are  the  tables,  urns,  and  vases,  some  of  them  of  great 
size,  in  jasper,  lapis  lazuli,  and  Russia's  peculiar  marble,  the  sur- 
prisingly veined  and  beautifully  green  malachite.  While  one 
would  not  go  to  a  gallery  more  than  once  to  see  these  things 
alone,  yet  they  afford  cheerful  relief  when  examining  the  works 
of  art  hanging  on  the  walls.  The  Hermitage  and  the  Winter 
Palace  each  has  probably  more  abundant  and  larger  pieces  of 
this  wonderful  mineral — for  it  is  rather  a  mineral  than  a  stoiie — 
than  all  the  rest  of  the  world  together  outside  of  this  empire. 
The  walls  of  the  Winter  Palace  are  adorned  by  a  great  number  of 
large  spirited  battle-pieces  representing  Muscovite  fights.  Many 
of  them  are  very  fine,  but  the  city  furnishes  so  many  galleries 
that  a  stay  of  months  would  be  recpiired  to  do  them  justice. 
The  emperor  never,  I  believe,  resides  in  any  of  these  buildings, 
unless  for  a  few  days  when  the  great  balls  are  gi\en  during  the 
long  winter  months,  when  his  capital  is  held  by  a  rule  of  ice  and 
two  thirds  of  his  huge  dominions  are  wrapped  in  a  mantle  of 
snow.  Then  in  this  imperial  city,  as  if  in  mockery  of  grim 
I5oreas,  King  Carnival  mounts  his  glittering  throne,  horses 
prance  and  neigh  as  if  partaking  of  the  general  joy,  belli- 
jingle  and  sing  in  a  thousanil  silvery  tones,  men  in  gold  lace 
and  women  in  embroidered  silks,  all  enveloped  in  warm  mantles 
borrowed  from  the  furry  denizens  of  the  frozen  regions  of  the 
far  north,  flirt  and  sing,  strut  and  dance,  cat  and  drink  in  a  high 
revelry  unknown  to,  and  impossible  in  lands  where  winter's  sun 
comes  forth  in  warm  and  genial  mood.  Here  his  wintry  face  is 
never  fierce,  and  after  a  quick  run  in  the  short  day  he  retires 
early  to  his  southern  bed  and  leaves  to  man  a  long  and  weird 
twilight,  with  streamers  in  the  far  north  of  "  the  borealis  race 
that  flit  ere  you  can  point  their  place."  Then  and  in  those  long 
nights  the  autocrat  comes  among  his  children  and  gives  them 
the  light  of  his  imperial  face,  dearer  to  courtiers  than  the  glow 
of  the  king  of  day  ;  and  noblemen  and  gentry  strive  to  imitate 
imperial  splendor  and  to  squander  the  treasures  gathered  from 
their  vast  country  estates.  The  very  poor  of  the  great  city 
grow  enthusiastic  when  telling  you  of  the  gayeties  of  winter. 
For   it  is  then  that  they  touch  the  gold  given    in  free-handed 


WINTER  REVELRY. 


4«3 


largesse  by  the  prodigal    rich,  or   carelessly   scattered   in   their 
wild   revelry. 

The  St.  Petersburger  asks  in  a  breath  of  the  traveller  if  he 
has  seen  the  Winter  Palace  and  the  1  lerniitai^e,  the  statue  of 
Peter  the  Great  and  St.  Isaac's.  lie  is  proud  of  many  things 
in  the  great  city,  but  these  he  believes  unequalled  in  the  world. 
On  a  massive  block  of  granite,  weighing  1,500  tons,  cut  to  re- 
semble a  rugged  precipice,  the  c/ar  sits  upon  a  jiroud  charger, 
both  of  heroic  size,  and  on  the  brink  of  the  precipice  points  to 
the  glorious  work  of  his  brain — t'le  proud  city  of  his  dreams, 
and  seems  to  say :  "  I  spake,  and  behold  the  creation  of  my 
voice."  lie  has,  to  me,  the  proudest  expression  I  have  ever 
seen  portrayed  in  marble,  bronze,  or  living  colors.  The  very 
spirit  of  the  autocrat,  who  considered  obstacles  but  things  to  be 
surmounted,  and  would  not  learn  the  meaning  of  the  word  fail, 
seems  to  breathe  from  the  proud  face  and  bold  demeanor  of  the 
pile  of  bronze  hanging  over  the  precipice  yawning  beneath  the 
horse's  feet.  Other  monuments  are  worthy  of  note,  but  I  will 
only  name  one,  erected  to  commemorate  a  victory  over  the 
Turks.  It  is  an  iron  column  standing  on  a  lofty  pedestal  of 
granite,  and  of  nearly  50  feet  in  height,  divided  into  six  stories, 
around  which,  in  diminishing  tiers,  arc  arranged  over  lOO  cannon 
taken  from  the  enemy.  It  is,  I  think,  unicpic,  and  is  a  fitting 
base  for  the  lofty  figure  of  Victory  above,  holding  in  one  hand  a 
wreath  in  laurel  of  victory,  and  an  olive  branch  in  the  other. 
The  olive  branch,  I  suppose,  to  be  handed  over  only  when  the 
Mussulman  surrenders  the  Rosphorus  to  the  upholder  of  the 
Russian  cross. 

As  I  said  heretofore,  the  Russians  arc  preeminently  a  pious 
people,  and  take  more  pride  in  their  churches  than  in  any  other 
public  structures.  St.  Petersburg  is  by  no  means  a  city  of  sacred 
buildings.  There  are  comparatively  few,  but  several  of  them 
are  noble  temples.  In  many  respects  the  Cathedral  of  the 
Saviour  in  Moscow  is  the  most  beautiful  Christian  temple  I 
have  ever  seen,  but  St.  Isaac's  here  is  one  of  the  [grandest  and, 
next  to  St.  Peter's  in  Rome,  is  tiie  most  impressive  and  the 
richest  of  churches.  It  is  in  form  a  perfect  Greek  cross,  with  a 
length  of  360  odd  feet  by  315,  built  of  stone,  resting  on  massive 
granite  foundations.  Fronting  each  line  of  the  cross  is  a  noble 
portico,  raised  on  massive  biocks  of  red  granite,  forming  the 
platform  from  which  lift  28  columns.  60  feet  high  and  7  feet 
in  diameter,  each  a  single  piece  of  polished  granite  with  heavy 
bronze  bases,  and  surmounted  by  florid  Corinthian  capitals  m 
the  same  metal.  These  support  the  upper  part  of  the  vast  por- 
ticos, in  the  pediments  of  which  are  figures  in  bronze  of  great 
size  representing  different  biblical  stories.  At  the  four  corners 
of  the  edifice  are  four  cupolas  or  domes,  containing  the  great 
bells,  and  relieved  by  bronze  figures  of  colossal  dimensions,  but 


y 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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^.  ,11 


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On  this  rests  the  ^rcat   cross  at 


appcarnig  from  the  ground  simply  of  life-size.  Springing  from 
the  centre  iictween  tiiese  smaller  domes  is  the  great  dome  or 
cupola  of  gilded  copper,  resting  on  a  colonnade  of  granite  col- 
umns 30  feet  high.  The  apex  of  this  dome  is  nearly  300  feet 
high.  From  its  shoulder  springs  a  smaller  cii])ola  or  lantern  of 
same  shape  as  the  main  dome 
an  elevation  of  3G6  feet  from  the  street 

The  exterior  of  St.  Isaac's  is  grand  and  in  such  perfect  propor- 
tion that  one  can  scarcely  realize  its  great  dimensiniis  and  lofty 
height.  The  splendid  l)ronze  fritzes  and  statues,  its  huge  granite 
columns  of  jierfect  polis'-.,  its  giliictl  domes  and  lofty  cross,  and 
the  granite  steps  and  platform  of  titanic  dimensions — these  are 
all  very  impressive.  But  it  is  not  until  one  has  passetl  through 
the  great  portals  of  bronze  ornamented  in  alto-relievo  and  fiiuls 
himself  in  the  dim  and  awful  interior,  with  its  huge  pillars, 
oblong  in  shape  and  massive  in  proportion,  built  of  costly  marble 
of  softest  hues,  pink  and  salmon  of  neutral  tone  predominating, 
and  picked  out  in  bands  of  black  and  scrf)lls  of  white,  and  then 
looks  up  to  the  huge  rounded  dome,  letting  in  the  sunlight  from 
far  above — it  is  not  until  then  that  one  can  realize  the  perfection 
of  form  of  the  vast  edifice,  or  can  realize  the  imperial  richness  of 
its  material.  The  pillars  are  all  on  bases  and  plinths  of  polished 
bronze  and  crowned  by  capitals  in  the  same  rich  metal  in  highest 
Corinthian  style  ;  above  and  resting  on  these  is  an  interior  cor- 
nice of  great  depth,  whose  proniinent  members  are,  too,  of 
bright  bronze.  The  ikoiiistas,  or  screen,  separating  the  main  in- 
terior from  the  inner  altar  or  tabernacle,  instead  of  being  light 
and  apparently  movable,  is  stable  and  fixed,  of  ])erhaps  100  feet 
in  height,  ornamented  by  ten  malachite  pillars  over  30  feet  high 
and  large  and  perfect  in  Corinthian  form,  surmounted  by  capitals 
of  woniierful  work  and  resting  on  bases  wrought  with  exquisite 
leaf  ornaments.  In  the  centre  of  the  ikonista.:.  is  a  magnificent 
bronze  ])ortal  with  swinging  doors  over  20  feet  high  and  made  of 
exquisite  leaf  and  vine  oi^enwork.  Flanking  the  portal  and  ne.xt 
the  malachite  columns  arc  two  pillars  of  lapis  lazuli,  :!0  feet  high 
and  of  a  marvellous  color.  Looking  from  one  side,  the  nialachite 
columns  seem  ;i  solitl  wall  fur  the  great  screen. 

St.  Isaac's  is  celebrated,  and  deservedly  so,  for  its  music.  The 
reading  by  the  priests  is  riclily  intoned,  and  men  with  great  vol- 
ume of  voice  are  chosen  for  the  role.  The  responses  of  the  choir 
are  very  sweet,  but  in  the  liturgy  the  effect  is  marvellously  touch- 
ing. The  service  is  very  long  on  Sunday,  lasting  from  ten  to 
nearly  one.  The  floor  of  the  church  was  crowded,  when  we  were 
present,  by  thousands  of  devotees,  and  either  the  music  or  their 
own  devotional  feelings  kept  them  standing  throughcut,  with  no 
appearance  of  weariness.  The  fervent  devotions  of  all  worship- 
pers appeal  strangely  to  the  heart.  I  have  been  d(  eply  affected 
in  a  Buddhist  temple.     I  was  held  in  rapt  attention  at  St.  Sophia 


:/     ,'   ' 


GRAND  ST.  ISAAC'S  CUURCH. 


465 


in(T  from 
dome  or 
uiitc  col- 

300  feet 
intern  of 

cross  at 

:t  ])r(ipor- 
uul  lofty 
fe  ^n-;iiiite 
;ross,  ami 
these  are 

thr(nia;h 
and  finds 
c  pillars, 
ly  marble 
minating, 
and  then 
Ljht  from 
)erfection 
iciiness  of 

polished 
in  hii;hest 
erior  cor- 
,    tiK),    of 

main  in- 
;in<T  lit;ht 

100  feet 
feet  higli 
y  capitals 
exqnisite 
i;j;nificent 
1  made  of 

and  next 

eet  hit;h 
malachite 


SIC.  The 
great  vol- 
the  choir 
sly  touch- 
m  len  to 
1  we  were 
c  or  their 
t,  with  no 
worship- 
y  affected 
it.  Sophia 


by  a  Mohammedan  priest.  Last  Sunday  at  St.  Isaac's  my  heart 
welled  up  through  my  eyes.  No  opera  ever  appealed  to  my  love 
of  beautiful  music  as  did  the  singing  of  the  choir.  Even  the 
oratorio  of  "  Moses  in  Egypt,"  with  Mario  and  Grisi,  Bclletti  and 
Albani,  and  several  other />/•///// in  the  roles,  at  Paris  when  I  was  a 
young  man,  failed  to  impress  me  as  did  this  Greek  church  music! 
I  do  not  wonder  it  takes  such  deep  hold  upon  the  people  whose 
religion  seems  almost  entirely  confined  to  externals. 

Some  clouds  had  hung  over  the  sun  for  some  time  during  ser- 
vice on  Sunday  at  St.  Isaac's,  but  as  the  ciioir  sung  out  its  joy 
when  the  bread  and  wine  were  blessed,  and  the  deep,  mellow 
tones  of  the  huge  bells  entered  through  the  lofty  dome,  mingling 
with  the  sweet  voices  of  the  choristers,  I  looked  up  in  almost 
startled  j^leasure.  As  I  did  so  the  cloud  rolled  b\-,  and  the  sun 
shot  down  in  bright  rays  througli  the  far-above  windows  and  sent 
them  in  hallowed  streams  into  the  church  below.  I  could 
then  understand  the  exaltation  of  devotees  when  they  take  for 
miraculous  many  natural  plienomena.  The  rayons  of  sunlight 
pouretl  down  into  the  deep  dimness  of  the  church,  and  from  them 
spread  in  mellow  mist  throughout  the  glorious  edifice;  and 
through  the  great  portal  in  front  of  the  inner  altar  streamed  a  hal- 


lowed 


effulgence 


to    come    from    the    "rrand   figure  of 


Christ  which  fills,  in  gorgeous  stained  glass,  the  great  window  at 
the  rear.  A  sigh  of  deep  devotion  arose  from  a  thousand  men  and 
women  about  me  as  they  bent  upon  their  knees  in  devout  thank- 
fulness. 

Next  to  the  churches,  the  drosky  is  the  most  decidedly  Russian 
institution  o.'  the  land.  The  one  now  most  in  use  is  a  small,  open 
caleche  with  low  wheels,  the  front  a  half  foot  narrower  in  the  tred 
than  the  rear  ones,  and  being  often  not  over  18  inches  in  diame- 
ter, but  generally  about  two  feet.  The  wheels  are  strongly  built, 
the  hinder  ones  twice  or  more  as  high  as  those  in  front,  with  the 
axle-spindle  projecting  a  couple  of  inches  beyond  the  hub,  a  pair 
of  heavy  shafts  bowing  from  the  horse's  girth  and  bending  in 
close  to  the  withers.  From  the  ends  of  the  shaft  lifts  a  rounded 
bow  or  yoke  some  three  feet  high,  firmly  fastened  to  the  shafts 
and  to  the  collar  or  hames.  The  hoi\^('  draws  directly  by  the 
shafts  and  holds  back  by  the  same,  there  being  a  breeching  run- 
ning from  the  collar  on  the  outer  side  of  the  shaft  and  fastened  to 
it ;  a  strong  trace  runs  back  and  is  attached  to  the  end  of  the 
axle-spindle  outside  of  the  luib.  The  driver  is  alwa}s  a  chubby- 
looking  fellow,  in  a  sort  of  frock  heavily  plaited  or  gathered  in  at 
the  waist  under  a  belt.  He  wears  a  low-crowned  hnt  immensely 
belled  and  with  narrow,  rolling  brim.  He  and  his  wagon  look  as 
if  they  had  been  fashioned  for  each  other.  He  is  always  sleepy 
and  good-natured,  but  wakes  as  quickly  as  a  cat  when  railed,  and 
asks  more  than  the  regular  fare,  but  takes  the  right  one  when 
given,  with  a  smile.     He  is  tough,  his  vehicle  is  tough,  and  his 


i 


1    I 


'#1  i  i 


f  ' 


'Wmlli 


r 


11^ 

In  I 

In! 


466 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


horse  is  tough  and  seems  never  to  tire.  If  you  arc  not  in  a  hurry 
he  goes  in  a  jog-trot,  but  if  you  wish  speed  he  goes  at  a  break- 
neck pace,  and  no  amount  of  jerking  over  rougii  streets  or  roads 
ever  breaks  the  wagon,  wearies  the  horse,  or  puts  tiie  driver  out 
of  humor.  Tlie  seat  is  very  narrow  and  tlie  springs  give,  so  tiiat 
the  occupants  are  constantly  inclined  to  tumble  out.  This  gives 
rise  to  a  peculiar  social  custom,  amounting  almost  to  a  super- 
stition, among  the  Russians — that  is,  that  when  a  man  rides  with 
a  pretty  or  young  woman  he  must  alwiiys  keep  his  arm  ab' •  1'.  her 
waist,  to  keep  her  from  being  tumbled  out;  but  his  superstition 
teaches  him  tiiat  this  is  never  necessar)' when  his  companion  is  an 
elderly  woman  or  another  man.  The  drosky  generally  in  use  is 
nearly  the  same  throughout  the  entire  emiiire.  In  the  country 
towns  many  of  them  have  bells  attached  to  the  bow,  The  old- 
fashioned  vehicle  has  scats  running  laterally,  the  driver  and  pas- 
sengers looking  to  the  sides.  These  are  seen  more  in  the  provinces 
than  in  the  capitals.  Very  handsome  ones  arc  used  privately. 
The  stylish  one  is  a  "  troika,"  and  is  drawn  by  three  horses,  one 
on  either  side  of  the  shaft-horse.  The  two  outer  ones  arc  so  ri  ined 
that  their  heatls  are  drawn  sharply  outward.  The  middle  r  sh  ift- 
horse  trots,  but  the  outer  ones  invariably  gallop.  When  st,.  le  is 
affected,  a  troika  of  fine  finish,  with  three  good  beasts,  the  outer 
ones  with  outward-bending  necks  in  full  gallop,  and  with  a  fine 
set  of  bells,  is  a  very  nobby  affair.  The  horses  of  Russia  are  fine 
strong  animals,  ;ind  have  great  endurance.  With  tlie  exception 
of  those  of  Hungary.  I  have  never  seen  them  in  aii\-  land  so  uni- 
versally good  as  are  seen  on  the  gre.it  stepi)e-plains  of  southern 
Russia.  In  a  war  with  any  other  country,  the  Cossacks  and  their 
mounts  must  prove  a  strong  arm  to  the  service. 

On  Sunday  last  we  went  to  Peterhof  to  witness  an  illumination 
given  in  honor  of  the  Kmperor  of  Germany.  It  was  a  dazzling 
affair.  In  tiie  beautiful  water-fountain  system  I  have  already 
described,  many  thousands  of  lamps  were  arranged  in  great 
obelisks  40  to  50  feet  high  ;  in  pyramids  or  arches  over  the  canal 
in  frequent  tiers,  and  scattered  thickly  among  the  branches  of 
trees.  Looking  down  from  *he  palace  terrace,  or  up  to  it  from 
the  long  alley,  the  whole  seemed  turned  into  fountains  and  forest.s 
of  flame.  The  little  lamps  along  the  walk  and  among  the  many 
fountains  were  so  thick  as  to  .seem  almost  solid,  and,  mingling 
as  they  did  with  the  water  spray,  the  effect  was  of  marvellous 
beauty.  Hehind  the  sleet  cataracts,  innumer.ible  lamps  were 
placed,  with  dazzling  effect.  Heretofore  1  spoke  of  the  great 
fountains  in  front  of  the  palace.  There  is  another  system  of  jets 
in  another  part  of  the  park,  running  down  from  the  high  grounds 
to  the  Mont  do  Plaisir,  I'eter  the  Great's  pavilion  on  the  water. 
This  is  a  beautiful  building,  300  feet  long,  and  only  one  story 
high.  From  the  two  ends  run  back  wings  of  about  the  same 
length  as  the  front.     In  the  court  formed  by  these  arc  fine  old 


in  a  liurry 
,t  a  hrcak- 
ts  or  roads 
driver  out 
vc,  so  tliat 
Tliis  ^ivcs 
()  a  supcr- 
ridcs  witli 

ab'>  It:  licr 
iipcrstition 
inion  is  an 
y  in  use  is 
he  country 
Tl)c  old- 
er and  pas- 
L-  provinces 

privately, 
horses,  one 
'c  so  ivined 
lie  rslMft- 
hen  st_,  le  is 
;,  the  outer 
,vith  a  fine 
isia  are  fine 
2  exception 
and  so  uni- 
if  southern 
s  and  their 

lumination 

;  a  daz7.1in<^ 

ive   already 

d    in    j;rcat 

r  the  canal 

tranches  of 

to  it  from 

and  forests 

^  the  many 

d,  mingling 

marvellous 

amps   were 

f   the   ^reat 

tem  of  jets 

i^h  grounds 

1  the  water. 

/  one  story 

the  same 

are  fine  old 


m 


\\\ 


v^ 


11- 


I'll 
i 


;    ■    1  1 


M 

p  > 

m 

M 

'i        1 

If 

>■      1 

1  ' 

'iBi 

f 

1 

-<       ,         V 


^i  ,' 


C'AND  II.LUMIXATJOX  AT  ril  IRUOI-. 


467 


trees.  The  entire  building  was  covered  in  rcgiilai-  lines  witii 
lamps  in  ground-glass  globes,  marking  the  architectural  members, 
and  from  the  trees  and  high  up  in  their  branches  swung  innu- 
merable lamps  of  various  colors,  all  .irtistically  arranged.  The 
ground  was  laid  out  in  parterres  of  tulips  of  various  colors,  little 
lamps,  however,  tat-.ing  the  place  of  flowers.  From  this  pavilion 
back  nearly  a  qua.ler  of  a  mile  to  the  hill  of  70  feet,  through  the 
trees,  is  a  broad  alle\' ;  along  this  were  a  vast  number  of  obelisks 
of  flame  and  the  woods  on  either  side  blazed  as  with  myriads  of 
huge  fire-flies.  Tumbling  down  the  hill  by  a  succession  of  steps 
so  arranged  as  to  represent  <i  single  cascade,  are  broad  sheets  of 
water.  Under  the  sheets  or  falls  were  a  mass  of  deep-red  lamps, 
while  on  either  side  were  double  rows  of  amber  light,  and  on 
and  under  the  top  cascade  a  blaze  in  white  electricity. 

The  illumination  commenced  before  ten  o'clock,  when  the  twi- 
light  was  vet  fresh  and  bright,  but  the  brilliancy  of  50.000  or 
more  lamps  was  so  great  that  we  forgot  it  was  not  deep  night; 
the  twilight  seemed  to  come  from  the  artificial  lights,  and  to  be 
reflected  upon  the  sky,  rather  than  fioni  tlu'  sun  below  the 
northern  horizon.  In  front  of  the  pavilion  f)f  the  Mont  de 
I'laisir  were  several  steamers  a  few  hundred  jards  out  at  sea. 
l-'rom  these  were  sent  uj)  <i  large  number  of  rockets  and  fireworks 
of  the  flower-pot  kind,  of  huge  size,  and  bursting  far  up  in 
myriads  of  brilliant  colors.  In  the  pavilion  there  was  a  banquet 
for  the  visiting  emperor  and  the  czarina  and  her  suite.  We 
reached  the  entrance  .it  the  rear  of  the  pavilion  just  as  the  em- 
press was  coming  out,  surrounded  b\'  the  court. 

The  crowtl  was  great  and  swa>ed  back  and  forth,  restrained  by 
doubU-  tiers  of  soldiers  with  locked  hands.  We  had  been  pressed 
to  the  front  line.  Seeing  one  of  the  handsomely  uniformei!  staff 
close  by,  I  res(jlved  to  try  my  p.Ueiit  open-sesame  of  "  Va  Ameri- 
kanets."  I  adilressed  him,  telling  him  I  was  an  .American  travel- 
ler and  an.vious  to  see  the  brilliant  scene  within.  Me  replied  : 
"  Attendez  un  n»oment,  monsieur,"  .idding  that  it  was  too  iate  to 
let  me  in,  as  the  empress  was  just  in  the  gate-way.  As  <|uickly 
as  she  passed  out  and  was  getting  into  a  great  open  si.v-horsc 
drag,  with  a  dozen  or  more  l.idies  ,ind  attiiulants.  the  officer 
ordered  the  soldiers  to  let  us  paNS.  \Vc  thus  hail  a  fine  opportunity 
for  witnessing  the  most  brilliant  part  of  the  display,  designed 
only  for  (iod's  anointed.  Hut  I  w.is  one  of  these,  an  .\merican 
sovereign,  and  ue  two  were  the  only  persons  inside  e.xcej)t  the 
court  attaches.  The  Russi.ms  feel  very  much  |)lease(l  by  the 
courtesy  extended  by  the  Americ.m  corvette  Entirprisc  in  assist- 
ing in  doing  honor  to  the  guest  of  their  czar.  Ours  was  the  only 
foreign  war  ship  which  took  part  in  the  ceremoniis,  excepting,  of 
course,  tlie  (.ierman.  I  suspect  the  courtesy  of  the  ofTicer  of  the 
staff  arose  from  this.  We  met  some  of  the  officers  of  tiie  Enter- 
prise  that  night  at  the  railroad  station,  and  regrctteil  we  could  not 


1 

I* 

11 


fl* 


11 


S'A 


7  / 


> 


f    ' 


IS''    l,i 

lii'    -I  *        '  , 


468 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUA'. 


i  I 


accept  their  cordial  invitation  to  visit  them  at  Cronstadt.  \Vc 
did  not  leave  the  terrace  of  the  pahice  until  after  12  o'clock.  The 
scene  was  so  brilliant  that  we  disliked  to  tear  ourselves  away. 
We  leaned  for  some  time  on  the  parapet  overlooking  the  ni;>in 
fountains  in  front  of  the  palace  jKivilion,  and  enjoyed  the  m:.t:;ic 
scene.  The  many  kiosks  and  pavilions  of  the  park  seemed  to  be 
beautiful  structures  in  flame,  and  the  flower-gardens  under  us 
looked  like  acres  of  tulips  and  hyacinths  and  crocuses  of  light. 
The  lamps  were  so  colored  as  to  make  this  effect  of  the  par 
terres  almost  perfect.  I  counted  the  lamps  in  a  given  space,  anil 
calculated  from  these  that  there  must  have  been  from  50,000  to 
100,000  burning  in  two  sections  of  the  park. 

At  13.30  we  took  the  train.  There  was  enough  of  light  coming 
from  the  northern  qua; tcr  of  the  heavens  for  me  to  read  my 
watch.  The  great  city  had  a  weird  appearance — so  light,  and  yet 
so  quiet  and  apparently  deserted.  Now  ami  then  we  sa^v  a  police- 
man reading  a  newspaper,  which  he  probably  borrowed  from  a 
doorwaj-.    The  czar's  great  city  virtually  has  no  night  in  summer. 


^.' 


;adt.     Wc 

ock.    The 

vcs  away. 

tlic  main 

tlic  ITtafjiC 

iiu'il  to  be 
under   us 

;   of  light. 

f  the  par 

space,  and 
50,000  to 

ht  coming 
)  read  my 
It,  and  yet 
'v  a  police- 
ed  from  a 
n  summer. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

FIN'L.\Nn— .\N  IXTKRKSTlNc;  COUNTRV— TUF  FINNS— TORNEA— 
MIDNIC.IIT  WnillN  TllF  ARCTIC  CIKCI.E-I'OSTINC-I' VRM- 
ING-TIIK  RELATIONS  OF  THE  RUSSIANS  WITH  THEIR  CON- 
(JUERED  SUBJECTS. 

Steamship  "  Tonica,"  bctiveen  Heisin^/ors  and  Stockholm, 

.'liti:usf  12,  1888. 

I  COMMENCE  this  letter  witiiin  the  roar  of  Imatra,  tiie  largest 
waterfall  in  Europe,  and  in  many  respects  one  of  the  finest  in'^the 
world.  A  great  river— the  outpouring  of  Lake  .Saima.  with  its 
connecting  lakes  over  200  miles  long  and  some  30  broad— here 
met  a  granite  hill.  A  convulsion  of  the  earth  split  the  hill  in 
twain,  leaving  a  cleft  50  to  So  feet  wide  and  500  yards  long,  of 
solid  granite  walls,  notched  and  jagged,  and  with  here  fittle 
recesses  a  few  feet  deep  and  there  projections  a  few  feet  out.  The 
river,  appro.iching  this  cleft  by  a  fine,  dashing  rapid,  plunger  down 
the  n.irrow  gorge,  bounding,  leaping,  dashing,  surging",  roaring. 
and  foaming,  with  ,1  f.iU  of  60  odd  feet  in  500'yards.  its  furious 
flow  is  here  .md  there  c.uight  by  a  recess,  or  hurled  bv  a  projec- 
tion in  counter-currents,  which  lift  .several  feet  high  and  plunge 
again  to  rise  below  in  huge  boiling  caldrons,  shifting  stningefy 
from  point  to  point,  often  several  y.'irds  apart.  The  currents  shot 
from  the  two  w.ills  frequentl)-  meet  to  be  thrown  in  massive  jets 
10  to  15  feet  into  the  air,  scattering  huge  crystals,  or  floating 
off  in  fleecy  mist.  Often  a  current  lifts  u])",  like'the  rounded  back 
of  a  mighty  monster,  to  plunge  and  rise  again  100  feet  below. 
From  lop  to  bottom  the  surging  Hood  is  one'mass  of  su'iwy  foam, 
enamelled  here  and  there  with  spines  of  pea-grccn.  Theja^ged 
wall  of  the  cliff  is  20  to  30  feet  above  the  water.  Against  thisUic 
current  is  often  thrown  in  mad  fury,  to  leap  high  up  its  sides  ;md 
to  fall  again  into  curling  pits  several  feet  lower  than  the  'rener.d 
level. 

Imatra  is  not  a  cascade,  nor  is  it  ,1  c.itar.ict.  nor  yet  .i  rapid,  but 
a  hybrid  between  them  all.  No  rocks  project  from  its  bed,  and 
its  l)oiling  and  tossing  are  not  from  obst.icles  hidden  beli>w,  but 
rather  from  its  own  mail  impulse.  In  a  straight  line  for  jao 
yards  it  looks  like  the  lower  and  broken  parts  of  a  vertical 
cataract,  and  could  it  be  hoisted,  and  yet  preserving  its  present 
form.it  would  seem  a  mighty  cascade  with  a  sheet  of  snowy  foam, 
showing  occasionally  ma.sscs  of  unbroken  green.     It  roars  finely, 

469 


?iPT5  ' 

•  II 

i  1 

1    V 

\« 

1'  11 

ml 

i 


! 

it 

'V     V 


N, 


1 1 


r^j 


I  ■• 


H 


470 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


with  the  dominant  tone  of  a  monster  splash  ;  yet  under  it  all  is  a 
deep  bass,  rich  but  ycl  mellow.  On  the  left  bank,  the  rising  hill 
is  densely  clothed  in  spire-formed  fir-trees  and  yellow  pine,  whose 
trunks  seem  to  have  caught  and  imprisoned  the  sunlight,  so  j-el- 
low  are  they,  lifting  through  the  green  foliage  about  them.  The 
other  bank  is  covered  witii  birch  in  delicate  feathery  leaf,  and 
with  trunks  and  branches  of  silvery  white.  Walking  at  1 1  o'clock 
at  night  in  the  weird  twiligiit  through  this  birch  wood,  I  discovered 
a  jiretty  effect  from  the  waterfall.  The  trees  seemed  alive  with 
countless  myriads  of  cicad;e  playing  upon  their  bony  chords, 
and  yet  there  was  Tiot  a  noisy  insect  about,  nor  was  there  a  breath 
ot  air  stirring.  It  was  the  tinv  echoes  of  the  waterfall  sent  back 
by  .nillions  of  leaves  and  twigs.  There  is  a  prett)"  liotel  on  the 
precipice  overhanging  the  fall,  '.uibowered  in  birchen  \\nod,  where 
50  to  100  guests  are  entertained  in  a  vcrj*  comfortable  manner  by 
polite  attendants.  l'"our  versts  below,  the  river  again  tumbles 
in  another  fall,  with  surrounding  scenery  of  a  truly  picfuresciue 
character. 

But  I  must  go  bacK  a  while.  A  run  of  four  hoiu's  from  .St. 
Petersburg  brought  us  to  W'iborg.  a  pretty  f)lil  t<nvn  in  l""inland, 
with  a  population  of  17,000.  It  is  built  on  a  jagged  peninsida,  at 
the  head  of  a  small  ba}'  running  up  from  the  (iulf  of  l'"inland.  At 
one  time  it  was  strongly  fortified.  The  old  broken-down  walls 
and  earthworks  run  entirely  around  the  main  town  and  form  a 
.sort  of  promenade,  frt)m  which  nice  views  are  had  over  the  bay 
on  one  side  and  over  the  river,  with  deep  indentations  antl  rocky 
promontories  on  the  other.  A  part  of  this  pronu-nadi'  is  turned 
int(j  a  garden  or  park  100  and  200  }-.n'ds  wide,  and  bending  and 
running  a  third  t)f  a  mile.  This  is  well  plantetl  with  young  lin- 
dens and  pretty  shrubbery.  A  picturesque  old  fortress,  with 
octagonal  dungeon  tower,  seven  stories  high,  and  flanked  by  a 
.strong  castle,  ccn'ers  a  bold  rock  inside  the  town  and  makes  a  very 
striking  picture.  The  priiie,  however,  of  the  Wiborgers  is  a  private 
park,  Mon  Repos,  open  to  the  public,  a  good  walk  out  of  the 
town.  The  owner  li.is  taken  advantage  of  a  rocky,  indented  shore 
line,  backed  by  granite  precipices  and  wooded  slopes  and  low  hills, 
with  massive  rock  islands  in  front,  to  make  one  of  the  prettiest 
of  little  parks.  It  has  a  small  castle  on  an  island  some  hundred 
feet  high,  look-out  observatories,  kiosks,  jiavilions,  and  grottos, 
with  the  woods  so  cut  as  to  present  many  pretty  vistas,  and  with 
soft,  restful  bays  nestling  in  green  wood,  spreading  along  the 
shore,  and  only  lacks  a  soft,  southern  atmosphere  to  make  it  a 
most  restful  repose. 

From  Wiborg  small  but  comfortable  steamers  run  up  the  river, 
and  then  through  a  canal  with  rivS  locks  to  Lake  Saima,  and  thence 
over  it  and  its  connecting  lakes  into  the  centre  and  toward  the 
north  of  I'"inland.  The  trip  on  the  canal  is  really  charming,  now 
along  a  canalized  river  and  then  through  artificial  water-ways. 


ii  'iiilli! 


t 


!;;■ 


A  CANAL  IN  FINLAND. 


•  it  all  is  a 
rising  hill 
lie,  whose 
It,  so  j-el- 
em.  The 
leaf,  and 
1 1  o'clock 
iiscovered 
ilive  with 
y  chords, 
e  a  breath 
sent  back 
tel  on  the 
>0(i,  where 
iianner  b)' 
1  tumbles 
ictiiresque 

;  from  St. 
1  l'"inland, 
ninsiila,  at 
iiland.  At 
own  walls 
lul  form  a 
M-  the  bay 
and  rocky 
■  is  turned 
iding  and 
.•ounj;  lin- 
rcss,  with 
iketl  by  a 
kes  a  verj- 
s  a  private 
•ut  of  the 
ited  shore 
1  low  hills, 
:  i)retticst 
e  hundred 
d  grottos, 
,  and  with 
along  the 
make  it  a 

the  river, 
ind  thence 
nward  the 
ning,  now 
ater-ways. 


Now  the  steamer  runs  along  a  dark  narrow  stream,  with  margins 
of  firs  and  silver  birch  ;  then  through  a  short  run  of  artificial  chan- 
nel, lifted  by  handsome  granite  locks,  from  wiiich  it  again  emerges 
into  a  pretty  lake,  bordered  with  country  villas  embowered  in 
woods  and  mirrored  in  placid  waters.  Nu  outlet  is  seen,  but 
suddenly  a  bend  around  a  rock)-  promontory  brings  one  into  other 
little  rivers  with  other  sets  of  locks,  and  again  into  other  lakes, 
with  headlands,  creeks,  and  bays,  studded  with  little  islands,  and 
at  last,  after  being  lifted  256  feet,  into  Lake  Saima,  which  e.x- 
tends  by  its  connecting  lakes  from  the6ist  up  to  the  T^th  parallel 
of  latitude,  and  spre.uls  with  innumerable  arms,  all  twisted,  bent, 
and  distorted,  over  two  degrees  of  longitude. 

Finland  is  ixeeminently  the  land  of  Likes.  Looking  upon  one 
of  the  correct  topographic.d  maps,  the  blue-tinted  lakes  so  mark 
the  whole  that  one  would  think  the  water  covers  equal  surface 
with  the  land.  They  have  not  regular  shore  lines,  but  are  so 
!)roken  into  creel-s  .ipd  b,i\-s;  are  so  twisted  in  all  directions;  are 
so  pierced  by  proiv.-ontitries  and  headhuuls  ;  and  so  covered  with 
innumerable  i.-^land:;;  in  parts  so  narrow,  ami  then  cpiickly  so 
spre.iding  out— that  the  water  upon  the  map  looks  like  huge  sea 
monsters.  There  are  three  lake  systems,  running  from  near  the 
shore  of  the  Ciulf  of  I''iidand  up  into  the  north,  besides  Lake  La- 
tloga.  partly  in  Russia.  Saima  is  I'inland's  principal  lake.  There 
are  two  other  long  ones,  but  not  so  large,  nor  lia\e  the)'  so  many 
arms  and  other  connecting  lakes.  Small  steamers  \)\y  ove'-  Saima 
in  daily  lines  between  several  ports,  and  small  ships  are  towed 
from  near  its  northern  end,  laden  with  lumber,  iron  ore,  tan  bark, 
and  tar,  to  the  Gulf  of  Finland  tlirough  the  canal.  The  trip  from 
Wilmanstrand,  near  the  mouth  of  the  canal  and  the  terminus  of  a 
railroad,  up  to  Llensalmi  was  most  enjoyable.  There  is  no  grand 
scenery  ;  none  of  the  islands  or  headlands  are  over  100  feet 
high  until  reaching  Njslott,  some  70  miles,  but  they  arc  by 
the  hundreds.  Some  are  wholly  granite  rocks,  but  generally 
wooded  ami  green.  The  granite,  however,  is  not  repulsive, 
being  always  covered  with  a  gray  moss,  brightened  to  a  light 
green  ne.u'  the  water.  So  constantly  are  the  islands  in  view,  that 
there  are  few  points  where  the  eye  can  catch  a  reach  of  more  than 
four  miles.  At  one  time,  however,  we  could  see  :30  miles  off,  but 
then  only  through  a  narr(-.w  channel. 

Half-way  up  to  Kuo|)io  we  stopped  at  N'\slott,  a  pretty  place, 
with  a  fine  old  castle,  covering  an  island  rock,  with  four  handsome 
turrets  and  heavy  walls  deeply  marked  by  cannon-shot.  The 
views  from  several  high  points  in  the  town  are  exquisite.  It  is 
built  on  a  set  of  islands,  divided  by  channels  connecting  the  upper 
and  lower  lakes,  through  which  the  dark  water  runs  in  fine  cur- 
rent. 1  was  struck  here  by  a  sort  of  water  weed,  or  long  grass, 
which  grows  from  the  bottom  of  streams,  even  where  six  or  more 
feet  deep,  bearing  a  white  star  flower  with  golden  centre.     The 


■I 

i 


!■  • 


I 


irli'J 


;,» 


47» 


A  RACE  WITH  TJIE  SUN. 


r ' 


i  11 


■•? 


■r  /■  J 


flower  is  only  seen  in  an  eddy  or  still  water  below  a  rock  or 
bridge,  but  where  the  current  is  swift  the  lon<r  grass  bends  and 
waves  like  swimming  serpents  below  the  surface,  and  looks  like 
threads  of  gold  or  silver  enamelled  in  green  and  bronze.  It 
grows  in  all  the  lakes,  but  it  was  at  Nyslott  that  it  was  most 
beautiful. 

After  leaving  this  place,  the  run  to  Kuopio  was  charming. 
The  hills  were  h  gher,  the  farm  lands  finer,  and  many  of  the  farm- 
houses very  prett\-.  I  will  here  state  that  throughout  Finland  the 
cultivators  of  the  soil  do  not  live  in  villages,  as  in  most  of  old  Con- 
tinental lands,  but  on  their  individual  holdings.  Frequently  these 
are  so  small  that  the  farm-houses  are  quite  near  each  other,  and 
form  somewhat  of  hamlets.  Some,  however,  are  (juite  large,  and 
the  barns  and  out-houses  numerous,  and  some  fine.  Generally 
the  buildings  arc  wholly  unpainted,  but  occasionally  a  large  house 
and  barn  would  give  variety  in  deep-red,  with  white  window 
trimmings.  The  Finns  are  fine  farmers — plow  well,  manure  well, 
and  save  every  thing.  Nowhere  is  seen  finer  barky,  which 
grew  better  and  better  the  farther  north  we  went,  up  to  the 
67th  degree.  I  am  told  it  is  good  up  to  the  69tii.  and  is 
brought  down  to  the  southward  for  seed.  The  r>e  has  a  fine 
appearance,  Init  the  kernel  is  small.  It  is  e.xported  to  Russia  for 
seed.  It  is  grown  only  to  a  very  limited  extent  about  the 
65th  degree,  though  we  saw  some  as  high  .is  the  ''><')th. 
The  stalks  in  some  fields  were  full)'  six  feet  high,  jmssibly  the 
average  w.is  considerably  over  five  feet.  Tiie  st.md  of  b.irley, 
rye,  oats,  and  potatoes  is  always  gooil,  but  the  oats,  with  few  ex- 
ceptions, are  light-headed.  Ilemp  of  good  (piiility,  but  not  over 
three  feet  high,  is  (piite  common  on  the  I. ike  huuis  or  in- 
terior. Harley  about  the  67th  paniUel  matures  in  eight  weeks 
after  being  put  into  the  ground,  hence  its  excellence  for  seed. 
F'arm  lands  along  the  lakes,  and  indeed  throughout  middle  and 
eastern  h'inland,  are  comparatively  scattered,  and  generalK'  of 
small  extent.  The  whole  country  is  full  of  rocks,  either  vast 
masses  of  protruding  granite  earth-ribs  or  in  boulders,  many  ol 
them  of  huge  dimensions.  Frt)m  among  the.se  the  farmer  has  to 
pick  out  his  fields  for  culti\atioii. 

We  reached  Kuopio  in  the  late  afternoon  of  Sunda\-,  the  JQth. 
We  at  once  drove  to  a  handsome  park  on  a  little  j)romontor\'  run- 
ning out  into  the  lake,  where  we  saw  b.mners  and  a  great  con 
course  of  people.  There  were  2,000  or  3,000  peoi)Ie  enjoying  the 
Sunday  afternoon,  the  young  men  in  their  best  clothes,  and  the 
women  in  their  whitest  kerchiefs.  The  females,  old  <ind  young, 
wear  .1  handkerchief,  generally  white  or  colored,  folded  on  the  di- 
agonal and  tied  under  the  throat.  A  long  line  was  formed,  and 
probably  100  couples  were  dancing  on  the  green  swan!  to  music 
made  by  a  military  band.  Games  were  going  on  among  the  more 
boisterous.     One  of  these  was  amusing.     A  smooth  pole,  a  foot 


I    / 


PECULIARITY  OF  NORTHERN  SUNSETS. 


473 


a  rock  or 
bends  and 
looks  like 
onze.  It 
was  most 

charming, 
f  the  farm- 
inland  the 
jf  old  Con- 
-■ntly  these 
otlier,  and 
lafLjc,  and 
Generally 
^rge  house 
e  window 
uuirc  well, 
cy,  which 
up  to  the 
;h.  and  is 
has  a  fine 
Russia  for 
about  the 
the  «A\\. 
>ssibly  the 
of  barley, 
th  few  ex- 
it not  over 
ds  or  in- 
jiht  weeks 
•  for  seed, 
liddle  and 
:nerall\-  of 
:ither  vast 
■;,  ni.my  ot 
ner  has  to 

.  the  JQth. 
mtory  run- 
great  con 
joying  the 
s,  and  the 
nd  young, 
on  the  di- 
rmed,  and 
1  to  music 
I  the  more 
ole,  a  foot 


in  diameter,  was  mounted  on  strong,  firm  legs.  Two  young  fel- 
lows would  climb  this,  locking  their  lc"s  under  it,  and  then,  with 
bags  filled  tightly  with  dry  grass,  would  endeavor  to  knock  each 
other  off  by  pounding  over  the  head.  Rarely  more  than  two  or 
three  blows  were  given  before  one  or  the  other  would  tu.nble 
over,  to  the  great  amusement  of  the  boys  and  girls  looking  on. 
We  saw  several  contests,  and,  to  the  credit  of  the  boys,  tlid  not 
see  any  thing  but  the  best  humor.  The  boys  and  young  men  up 
here  have  their  own  sports,  and  do  not  hire  a  picked  nine  to  do 
athletics  for  them.  The  American  rage  for  professional  base-ball 
is  very  nearly  akin  to  that  of  tlie  effeminate  taste  of  Rome,  when 
people  paid  to  see  others  fight,  and  were  soon  overrun  by  the 
hardy  sons  of  the  north,  who  delighted  in  themselves  engaging  in 
all  kinds  of  hard,  manlj'  sports. 

Overlooking  the  town  is  a  mountain  of  700  feet  higli,  and  on 
it  an  observatory.  From  this  is  an  extraordinary  panorama. 
Spread  arounil  20  to  30  miles  are  rolling  green  forests,  and  hills 
and  sheets  of  placiti  water.  Nowhere  do  the  hills  rise  higher 
than  the  spot  on  which  we  stood.  To  the  north  and  south  the 
lake  or  lakes  lay  in  all  sorts  of  irregular  shapes — here  in  rounded 
bays,  there  in  long  arms,  now  in  sheets,  and  then  in  the  narrow 
streams.  As  far  as  one  could  see  toward  the  S(juth,  the  water 
was  spread  with  islands  of  various  sizes  and  of  many  shapes.  I 
distinctly  counted  150.  AmoHL^  them  the  lake  would  shine  as 
sheets  of  silver,  then  run  off  in  threads,  again  to  wiilen  into  sheets, 
and  to  bend  off  and  lose  itself  among  the  hills.  To  the  east  and 
south  the  woodeti  hills  encompassed  lakes  and  streams,  and 
showeti  small  patches  of  cultivated  farm  lands.  I  have  never  seen 
any  large  view  which  presented  water  and  land  so  equally  inter- 
mingleil — nowhere  a  mt  re  water  picture,  nowhere  a  simple  land 
picture.  In  a  fourth  )f  the  panorama  \vat<;r  predominated,  in 
the  rest  the  land,  hut  in  any  direction  one  looked  there  was 
enough  of  both  to  make  a  complete  scene.  And  yet  there 
was  one  thing  satlly  wanting  :  there  was  no  warmth  of  coloring  ; 
no  genial  atmosphere  to  make  one  feel  he  would  like  to  wander 
among  the  woods,  or  over  the  hills,  or  float  upon  the  water. 
No  spot  in  this  far  north  can  woo  one  to  enjoy  a  dreamy,  restful 
inaction.  We  watched  the  sun  drop  down  into  his  cold  northern 
couch.  Even  he  seemed  loth  to  finti  rest  in  so  uncongenial  a 
clime.  From  the  instant  his  lower  limb  touched  the  horizon 
there  intervened  several  minutes  before  the  last  ray  was  hidden. 
Last  winter,  when  near  the  etjuator,  I  could  almost  see  the  sun 
move  as  he  dropped  to  his  rest,  and  tlie  tints  and  hues  of  sunset 
were  of  so  short  duration,  so  fleeting,  that  they  were  gone  almost 
before  the  eye  could  fully  catch  them.  Before  a  delicious  color- 
ing could  fix  itself  upon  the  retina  it  would  vanish,  and  another 
as  beautiful  would  take  its  place ;  tint  melted  into  tint,  tones 
dissolved  like  floating  mists. 


l\ 


I 


H 


\'y 


-:< 


I 


*r, 


i. 


I 

HI 


■    i 


■ii 


474 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


l^  ' 


"  Tlie  sun's  rim  dips  ;  the  stars  riisli  out; 
At  line  stride  comes  the  dark." 

Here  it  is  all  different.  A  sunset  glow  seems  painted  upon  the 
sky,  and  the  cloud-tints  appear  almost  stable.  I  saw  bands  of 
gold  and  yellow  and  red  and  purple  drawn  along  the  horizon, 
and  after  turning  from  looking  in  another  direction  for  some 
minutes,  I  was  almost  pained  to  find  the  same  carpet-lines  athwart 
the  low  sky  ;  and  after  the  sun  has  gone  uniier,  the  bright  color- 
ings last  as  if  indelibly  fixed. 

The  midnight  twilight  of  the  far  north  also  differs  in  tone  very 
much  from  the  fleeting  twilights  of  more  southern  latitudes,  even 
as  high  up  as  Chicago.  There  one  has  a  somewhat  changing  at- 
mosphere, and,  one  may  say.  a  fleeting  grayness.  Here  the  gray 
is  crystallized,  and  aiinost  as  fi.xeil  as  in  a  picture  on  canvas.  It 
may  be  fancy,  but  to  me  it  brings  an  intense  feeling  of  loneli- 
ness ;  much  the  same  feeling  as  I  have  felt  when  high  up  on  an 
Alpine  glacier.  The  finest  scene  is  cold,  and  the  atmosphere  so 
tones  every  thing,  that  one  feels  he  is  looking  through  slightly 
smoked  glass,  and  that,  too,  when  the  air  is  of  crj'stal  clearness. 

From  Idensalmi  on  thelakes,  about  230  miles  north  of  Wiborg, 
we  posted  138  miles  across  the  country  to  Uleaborg,  near  the 
head  of  the  (lulf  of  Hothnia.  (^ur  veiiicles  were  of  three  kinds. 
On  most  routes  we  had  a  sort  of  dog-cart,  with  nice  springs,  on 
others  a  cart  with  springs  to  the  seat  alone,  and  on  one  a  simjile 
box  set  down  on  the  axle.  The  stations  are  from  7  to  12  miles 
apart,  varying  to  suit  the  f.u'm-houses,  there  not  being  farming 
lands  at  regular  intervals.  We  would  frc(iuently  pass  over  several 
miles  of  flat,  oozy  tracts,  growing  pine  and  silver  birch,  without 
a  house,  and  then  over  a  broken  country  with  boulders  and  pines. 
Where  there  were  farms  they  were  generally  small,  but,  being  finely 
managed,  produced  admirable  crops.  May  is  greatly  valued,  and 
every  patch  of  grass  is  cut. 

It  rains  so  freiiuently,  and  the  drying  quality  of  the  air  is  so 
deficient  that  hay  is  cured  in  the  central  or  lake  regions  on  racks. 
These  are  sometimes  quite  large  and  of  long  poles,  one  above 
the  other,  two  or  three  feet  apart,  and  laid  on  upright  posts  20 
or  more  feet  high.  On  these  the  cut  grass,  after  lying  on  the 
ground  a  day,  is  hung  until  thoroughly  cured;  on  them,  too,  are 
cured  the  tender  twigs  of  birch,  elm,  and  ash,  for  sheep  and  goat 
fodder.  In  general,  however,  sticks  eight  or  so  feet  high,  with 
pins  a  couple  of  feet  long  stuck  into  them  at  intervals  of  a  foot 
or  two,  are  run  into  the  ground  throughout  the  meadow.  The 
grass  is  hung  up  on  them  instead  of  being  thrown  into  hay- 
cocks to  cure.  All  hay  must  be  housed  for  the  long  winters, 
and,  consequently,  must  be  thoroughly  cured.  Another  peculiar 
feature  of  farming  exists.  Rye  and  barley  are  dried  by  fire  be- 
fore being  threshed,  and  every  large  farmstead  has  several  houses 
These  are  of  logs  close  laid  on   moss-filled 


for  this  purpose. 


if  >  ' 


AN  ODD  STEAM  BATH. 


475 


d  upon  the 
\v  bands  of 
he  liorizon, 

I  for  some 
icH  athwart 
ri<^lit  color- 

II  tone  very 
tildes,  even 
haiiLjin^f  at- 
re  the  ^M-ay 
canvas.  It 
%  of  Umeli- 
h  up  on  an 
iDsphere  so 
^'h  sHghtly 
clearness, 
of  Wiborjj, 
^,  near  the 
hree  kinds, 
sprinj^s,  on 
le  a  simple 
to  \2  miles 
\Y^  farming 
ver  several 
:h,  without 

and  pines, 
jeini^  finely 
/alucd,  and 

c  air  is  so 
s  on  racks, 
one  above 
it  posts  20 
\\v^  on  the 
m.  too,  are 
p  and  goat 
hit^h,  with 
s  of  a  foot 
dow.  The 
into  hay- 
11  g  winters, 
er  peculiar 
by  fire  be- 
cral  houses 
moss-fillcd 


t 


chinks.  In  them,  on  cross-beams,  the  grain  is  hung,  as  tobacco 
is  with  us,  and  a  hie  is  made  in  rock-built  furnaces,  the  stones 
generally  being  in  quite  a  pile  around  the  flue,  so  to  retain  and 
give  out  a  regular  heat.  One  can  tell  these  houses  by  the  smoke- 
stains  over  the  door-way,  this  being  the  only  outlet  for  smcjke. 

At  the  station,  where  we  spent  our  first  night,  we  found  these 
houses  are  put  up  to  another  and  very  droll  use.     Abinit  ten  o'clock 
a  number  of  hands,  men  and  women,  came  in  from  the  hay-field. 
.Soon  1  noticeii  them  coming  out  of  the  dwelling  house  in  white 
overalls — a  sort  of  night  dress, — .md  going  to  one  of  these  dry- 
houses.     I  followed  and  found  that  the  house  was  a  regular  steam 
bath.     A  dozen   naked   men   were  perched  on  an   upper  tier  of 
joists,  whipping  themselves  with  birchen  branches,  on  which  the 
leaves  were  left.     The  room  was  so  filled  with  steam  that  I  could 
not  see  until  I  lit  a  match.     A  woman  was  throwing  tlipperfuls 
of  water  over  the    pile  of    hot  stone,  and   thus   making  steam. 
They  were  all  much  amused  at  my  curiosity.     At  first  I  supposed 
the  woman  did  not  mind  the  n.ikctl  men,  because  they  were  clad 
thoroughly  in  smoke  and  steam.     Hut  I   soon  found  it  arose  not 
from    this,  but  from  an  entire    lack  of    mock  modesty,  for  the 
men  soon  emerged   into  the  open  air  as  red  as  boiled  lobsters, 
and   reeking  with  sweat,  and   sat  around  to  wipe  off  and  cool, 
as  the  elite   do  in  a  Turkish  bath.      The  light  whipping  takes 
the  place  of  the  shampooing  in  our  baths.     After  the  men  had 
colten  through,  the  women  went  in  and  took  their  sweat.     M.k- 
ceedingdiffidence  prevented  me  waiting  to  find  if  they  came  out  in 
nature's  adornments  to  cool  as  the  men  tlid.     Like  Lot's  wife, 
however,  I  could  not  help  looking  over  my  shoulder,  and  discover- 
ed  that   women  as  well  as  men  get    exceeding  red  when  half- 
cooketl.     At  another  place  we  saw  several  girls,  from  10  to  15, 
standing  in  front  of  one  of  these  drying  establishments,  a  few 
paces  fiom  the  road.     They  did   not   flee,  although   their  only 
garment    was    maiden    modesty.        This    is   one  of    the  Asiatic 
habits  of  their  ancestry,  not  yet  discardeil  in  the  less-frequented 
parts  of  Finland.     "  lloni  soit  qui  mal  y  pense."     Adam  and  Eve 
did    not  discover   their  want   of  clothing  until   their  eyes  were 
opened  by  sin.     Let  us  hope  that  lack  of  guile  is  at  the  bottom 
of    this  people's   want    of   conventional   modesty.     I   regret   to 
report,  however,  that    the    birth  stat-stics  show  a  rather   high 
rate  of  illegitimacy,   but  below  that  of  Moscow  or  Vienna.     Hy 
the  way,  I  think  I  omitted  to  state  that  in  the  Volga  we  saw  men 
and  women,   without   bathing-dresses,  bathing,   not  exactly  to- 
gether, but  only  a   few  feet  apart,  and  with   no  sort  of  screen 
between  them. 

The  Finns  show  a  very  decided  resemblance  to  the  Mongolians 
in  type;  rather  flat  faces  and  stubby  noses,  and  stems  of  the  ears 
bulging  as  if  bee-stung.  They  are  not  a  bad-looking  people,  and 
evince  a  great  desire  to  please.     Speaking  not  a  word  of  their  lan- 


•t 


476 


.'/  KACJ-:  wiTU  THE  srx. 


I        1 


(•  ^' 


•di 


gua^c,  \vc  have  been  forced  to  decided  frcciloms  in  making  our 
wants  known.  We  marched  into  their  kitciiens,  into  tlieir  dairies, 
and  into  their  store-moms  to  point  out  what  we  wished.  They 
invariably  seemed  amused  and  never  annojeil  at  this  lack  of  form 
on  our  part.  Our  guide-book  has  a  short  lexicon.  We  occasion- 
ally find  a  word  for  the  thing  we  wish,  and  instead  of  trying  to 
pronounce  it  we  point  it  out  in  the  book,  ami,  to  the  credit  ol  ilie 
people,  wc  have  only  found  tw<i  or  three  oiil  peo[)lr  wiio  could  not 
read.  I  learn  it  is  the  boast  that  every  one  can  read  the  Hible  who 
was  not  too  oKl  to  go  to  school  within  the  past  15  or  20  years,  and 
nearly  all  write  aiul  can  cipher.  In  this  respect  they  are  vastly  in 
advance  of  their  Russian  brothers,  iSo  jjcr  cent,  of  whom  do  not 
know  'heir  A  li  C's.  The  bishops  (Lutheran)  in  Kinlaiul  refuse 
to  confirm  any  one  who  cannot  re.ul  the  catechism,  and  thus  force 
them  to  learn,  for  tliey  .ire  ail  true  to  their  iliunh. 

I  have  taken  advantage  of  our  license  as  ignorant  strange  rs  to 
pry  into  much  of  the  home  life  of  these  people.  (_)n  our  posting 
trips  the  stations  are  at  the  houses  not  jf  inn-keepers,  but  of  a 
better  class  of  farmers.  Tiie  horses  ,ire  invariably  in  the  pastures. 
While  the\'  were  being  made  read)'  I  went  on  voyagi-s  of  discov- 
er)'. The  farm-houses  are  placeil  about  a  (luadrangle  more  or  less 
large.  The  people  have  an  air  of  slovenliness,  but  their  kitchens 
anil  utensils  and  their  ilair)-rooms  are  clean,  and  the  tea  and  coffee 
service  and  pl.iles  tctnpt  liu-  .ippetite  l)y  tluir  bright,  >liin)'  neat- 
ness, and  some  of  tlie  wonui\  ratlur  ama/td  me  by  their  exceed- 
ing care  ;  for  e.\am])le,  I  s.nv  one  w.ish  fresh,  clean-looking  "ggs 
before  putting  them  into  a  pot  to  boil.  One  has  but  to  look  iito 
their  delicious-looking  milk-coolers  to  get  a  desire  to  tlrink  the 
milk.  I-Lvery  farm,  large  and  small,  has  its  dairy.  .Some  make  all 
their  milk  into  butter  and  cheese  ;  others  sell  to  largi  r  dairymen 
in  the  neighborhood,  who  make  cheese  and  butter  on  an  extensive 
scale.  In  every  jiart  I  have  seen  the  cooler  is  the  same — matleof 
sweet  wood,  broad,  and  only  three  inches  ileep.  These,  after 
being  emptied,  are  w.ished  with  a  switch  broom,  thus  reaching  the 
smallest  chine.  They  are  then  rinsed  and  filled  with  boiling  water  to 
stand  for  some  time,  after  which  they  are  placed  in  the  air  to  dry.  So 
many  are  used  that  one  is  never  filled  when  soilden.  At  a  moder- 
ate-sized farm  1  saw  cpiite  a  hundred  of  them.  The  milk  is  delicious, 
and  the  butter  unsurpassed.  We  have  hi.vuriated  on  clabber,  one 
of  (jod's  best  gifts  to  man.  The  peo])le  in  our  northern  .States  are 
sadly  ignorant  in  not  a])preciating  this  product  of  the  cow.  If  I 
had  to  m.ike  my  choice  between  two  cows,  one  which  gave  rich, 
sweet  milk,  which  woukl  not  sour,  and  the  other  which  gave  clab- 
ber directly  in  nice,  creamy  fl.ikes,  I  would  take  the  latter  every 
time.  But,  thanks  to  a  beneficent  Provitlence,  a  good  CvAV  fur- 
nishes rich,  creamy  milk  for  our  coffee  and  strawberries,  and  the 
genial  warmth  of  the  sun  turns  it  at  the  right  time  into  glorious 
bonny-clabber.     Finland  sends  large  amounts  of  butter  to  Sweden 


I       ! 


77/ A  /'/.\/.-.V  1'I^•J^   DAIRYMEN. 


477 


making  our 
tlicir  dairies, 
ilicd.  TliL-y 
lack  of  form 
\'c  occasion- 
of  tryin^^  to 
credit  ol  1  he 
U)  coiiltl  not 
le  Miiile  ulio 
o  years,  ami 
are  vastly  in 
hom  do  not 
ilaiid  refuse 
li  lliu>  force 

str,in^'i.rs  to 
our  posting' 
MS,  l)ul  of  a 
he  pa-^tures. 
of  discov- 
more  or  less 
eir  kitchens 
a  and  coffee 
shiny  neat- 
leir  cxceed- 
xikinu;  "i;^'s 
to  look  nto 
i>  driid-;  liu' 
ine  make  ,ill 
er  tlair)Mnen 
m  extensive 
le — made  of 
riiese,  after 
reach int;  the 
in^f  water  to 
irtodry.  So 
.At  ,1  nioder- 
is  delicious, 
clabber,  one 
n  States  ,ire 
-•  cow.  If  I 
\  L,M\e  rich, 
h  pave  clab- 
latter  every 
)d  cow  fur- 
ies, and  the 
ito  },doriou.s 
•  to  Sweden 


.nnd  to  Russia.  1  suspect  it  was  the  lony  contact  with  the  cleanly 
Swedes  which  made  these  pcojile  neat  in  their  household  and 
dairy  matters. 

For  seven  months  of  the  year  cattle  are  housed.  The  barns 
have  very  convenii-nt  shallow  st  ills,  with  yokes  fur  the  animal,  in- 
stead  of  ropes  to  go  around  the  iiornsautl  thusbruiselhis  tenderest 
part  of  the  horned  animal.  Over  each  stall  is  a  birclun  tub,  liold- 
in>,'  nearly  a  bushel  for  the  cow  or  calf  to  feed  from,  and  a  broad 
alley  between  the  stalls.  It  is  now  summer,  and  the  ciw-liouscs 
are  not  used,  but  every  thni^  is  in  its  i^lace  ready  for  use, — at  least 
this  was  the  case  in  over  a  dozen  houses  1  looked  into.  Close  by 
the  horse  and  cow  stable  is  ;i  small  separate  room,  with  a  large  iron 
kettle,  larger  or  smaller,  in  proportion  to  the  si/e  of  the  house, 
set  in  a  stone  furnace.  In  this  the  dairy  utensils  are  washed 
and  scaldeil,  ami  the  food  of  the  cattle  is  moked  in  winter. 
AH  fi'od,  except  hay  and  straw,  is  cooked,  and  in  the  winter 
fed  more  or  less  warm.  Even  in  the  suiunier  horse-food  (ex- 
cep  lia\)  is  in  the  shape  of  coarse  bread.  Moscpiitoes,  gnats,  and 
night-tiies  .ire  so  bail  that  smothered  fin '^  .ire  built  about  the  cow- 
lots  in  the  evening.  The  poor  irutes  stand  or  lie  about  these 
when  the  smoke  is  so  dense  that  one  would  think  it  suffocating. 
The  i)easts  evidently  enjoy  it,  and  not  being  forced  to  switch  their 
tails  could  give  their  entire  energies  to  llu;  cud.  Willie  suggested 
that  tliey  couki  furnish  read)--made  jerkeil  beefs,  (^ur  post-boys  in- 
variably  carry  three  or  four  ring-^  of  bread  and  some  hay  in  the 
cart  to  feed  tlu-ir  hi>rses  at  the  end  of  the  ^tage  before  going  back. 

At  some  stations  we  fouiul  no  mc'u.  The  women  then  brought 
out  the  cart,  went  to  the  field  for  the  horse,  and  hitched  them  up, 
and  were  our  post-boys,  but  generally  we  had  bright  little  fellows 
from  lO  to  12  years  old,  and  a  fewtinus  little  girls.  The  \\  ather 
was  showery  while  we  were  posting,  and  we  thus  lost  considemble 
time.  I  employed  it  in  speering  about  and  writing.  Tr.ivel  in 
I'^inland  is  ridiculously  cheap.  A  horse  and  c.irt,  holding  us  two 
and  our  light  baggage,  costs  a  little  under  five  cents  a  mile.  A 
run  of  ten  miles  would  take  about  an  liour  antl  a  half.  It  did  us 
good  to  see  the  real  pleasure  we  afforded  when  we  gave  our  lit- 
tle post-boys  and  girls  a  half-mark,  or  ten  cents,  at  the  end  of  their 
stage.  At  the  farm-house  or  post-stations,  where  we  spent  the 
nights,  we  had  good  beds,  .i  supper  on  bacon  and  raw  fish,  rye 
bread,  and  Swedish  hard  bread  (delicious),  and  as  delightful  milk, 
cream,  butter,  and  clabber  as  one  ever  ate,  and,  in  addition  to 
these,  very  good  coffee  and  sometimes  eggs  for  bre.ikfast.  And 
the  whole  for  two  of  us  cost  from  70  cents  to$i.  The  travellers' 
roomsatthc  post-houses  were  delightfully  clean, — one  or  two  with 
strips  of  carpet,  others  strewn  with  sweet  fir-twigs.  The  little 
tow-headed  children  were  good-natured,  and  two  or  three  pet  hogs 
invariably  grunted  under  our  wimlows,  with  a  gentle  squcu  for  a 
crust.     The  hogs  were  always  clean,  and  really  not  bad  pets.    We 


'vil 


I     1 


m^ 


478 


./  A'./c/;  //•//•//  /■///•;  sc.v. 


V-    1 


•> 


R  '•/ 


m 


had  always  beautifully  curlctl  tailed  tlo^s  to  keep  us  comi)any. 
One  stayeil  with  us  48  uiilis,  aithoufjh  \\c  chan^^ed  four  or  fivr 
times  dur  post-boys.  He  ii.ul  the  most  iii(iei)iiulentlj'  double- 
curled  tail  I  ever  saw.  I  le  was  evitleiitl)'  wi  II  kiunvn  at  the  differ- 
ent stations.  I  think  he  n;co^ni/.ed  us  as  free-born  Americans,  aiul 
wi->hed  to  j;o  home  with  us.     We  ^ot  rid  of  him  b)'  dod^in^,'  him. 

l''innish  has  no  affinity,  I  am  told,  with  any  luiropc.m  languaj;e, 
or  perhaps  any  Asi.itic.  It  has  no  prepositions,  hdrthem  a  suf- 
fix is  added.  l''or  e.xample,  a  s'v^u  boartl  h  is  on  it  "  Uluum  50." 
This  means  "To  Ulu  50  versts."  While  "  I'lust.i"  nuans  "from 
U la."  To  show  the  difficulty  of  accpiiriuLj  the  lant^ua^e,  a  h'innish 
laily  saiil  to  me  that  she  learned  Russian  quite  correctly  in  a  )ear, 
while  a  Kussi.ni  friend,  a  'octter  linj^uist  than  she,  was  two  jears 
in  le,irninLi  Finnish  as  well.  And  yet  Russian  is  consiilerid  a  \ery 
difficult  l.inL^uaije  to  m.isfer. 

The  I'Mnns  are  a  hard)'-lookintj  people — not  tail  nor  heav\-,  but 
firm.  The  nun  have  tawnv-colorcd  hair,  and,  like  the  Russians, 
cut  it  rather  s(piarely  .ironnd  the  naju'  of  the  luck,  but  their  hair 
bein^  tliin,  this  manner  of  cutting,'  does  not  give  them  tlie  uncoutii 
look  of  Russians,  The  l.itter  have  generally  very  heavy  suits. 
They  cut  it  almost  scpiare  around  llie  head,  and  .is  tluy  go  much 
of  the  time,  when  at  work,  barehe.ided,  the  heav\-  hair,  b.mgi-d  in 
front  anil  square  behind  the  ears,  gives  them  a  low,  animal  ix- 
pressit)n.  I  s])eak  of  tlu'  common  man.  The  better  classes  and 
the  milit.iry  shingle  the  rear  hair,  h'innish  children  ha\e  heads 
so  flaxen  that  it  amuses  one.  No  flax  i-^  so  se\'erely  white. 
Their  little  faces,  and  the  skin  under  their  hair  looks  brown  in 
coin|)arison  with  the  tow.  The  hair  of  the  women  is  generally 
light  and  }-eli<nvish — not  so  often  tawny  .is  tliat  of  tlu'  men,  i)os- 
sibly  because  their  heads,  being  generall)'  coviied  by  a  h.mdker- 
chief,  are  less  browned  by  the  weather.  The  skin  of  the  old 
women's  faces  usu.illy  h oks  tough  I'nough  to  make  s.id(lle-l),igs 
of  without  ta!ining.  .Some  of  the  men  have  very  light  h.iir,  l)ut 
that  is  on  the  west,  where  they  are  more  or  less  intermixi-d  with 
the  Swicles. 

I  said  the  l'"inns  were  good  farmers.  Resides  their  fine  fields 
of  r\'e.  barley,  and  [jotatoes  on  lands  not  naturally  rich,  the  beau- 
tiful ditches  ;iiui  fine  fences  evince  careful  husbantlry.  The  land 
is  generally  cultivateil  in  beds.  The  ditches  dividing  these  beds, 
gener.dly  about  two  feet  deep,  and  sodded  .ibout  two  feet  on  each 
side  and  down  to  the  bottom,  arc  beautifully  made.  Mven  this 
sod  to  the  bottom  of  the  dit'jh  is  mown.  Not  a  foot  of  grass 
land  is  left  ungrazed  or  un<Mtt  All  farms  .are  fenced  in  and  fields 
are  separ.ited  by  fences.  These  are  of  light  rails,  \2  to  15  feet 
long,  laiil  on  each  other,  on  an  incline  of  .say  25  degrees,  the  k>wer 
enil  on  the  ground,  ami  .supported  by  two  light  ujirights  fastened 
together  by  birch  withes,  from  four  to  six  feet  apart.  The  rails 
lie  upon  each  other  between   these  u|)rights.  and  a  light  br.ice  at 


A 


f/NAS  GOOD  /■.■IA'.]f/:A'S  .I.V/)  .1  .S/A7J.\f/  A'  '    A', 


47  y 


s  company. 
four  or  five 
tly  ildiiblL'- 
it  tliL'dirfi'r- 
criciiiis,  ;mil 

"••1k'"K  '''111. 
iM  languai^H', 
tlu'iii  a  siif- 
Ulmim  50." 
ir.iiis  "  fmin 
r,  a  I'"iii!ii>li 
ly  in  a  year, 
IS  two  years 
Kri'd  a  \  rry 

■  lu'.ivy,  hut 

c   Russians, 

it  tliL-ir  Iiair 

:lic  uiKiiulli 

icavy  .suits. 

cy  ;.;()  niuili 

r,  h.iiif^ed  ill 

,  nnimal  r\- 

classis  and 

have  lieads 

rely    wliiti'. 

Ks  brown   in 

is  f^cnerally 

le  men,  \)'>^- 

'  a  liamiker- 

of  tile    (.ill 

saddlc-ha'Ts 

;lit  liair,  i)ut 

mixed   with 

ir  fine  fields 
h,  the  heau- 
.  The  land 
these  beds, 
feet  on  each 
Mven  this 
oot  of  ^rass 
n  and  fulds 
2  to  15  fiel 
■s,  the  lower 
iUs  fastened 
.  The  rails 
:ht  brace  at 


alternate  upri^jhts  runs  throu^jli  the  upper  withe  f-istenin^,  and 
rests  on  the  ^jround  some  three  or  four  feet  off.  Tlu'  fences  an- 
about  four  anil  a  half  feet  liij;h  and  have  the  apnear.mce  of  rou^h 
pickets  set  at  an  an^jle  insteail  of  upright.  Wc  liave  seen  lum- 
dreds  of  miles  of  fences  aiul  not  a  hundreil  yards  out  of  repair. 
iMelds  are  entered  throu^'h  li^ht  swiii^iiiL;  .;,itcs  (tr  by  iicit  draw- 
bars. The  ^a-neral  appearance  of  much  of  tiie  country  reminds 
one  of  parts  of  Wisconsin.  I'he  people  iiere  have  inherited  from 
their  fro/en  climate  the  necessity  of  economy,  piTsever.uue,  and 
ever-watchful  care.  Tliey  have  learned  that  waiiuth  .iiid  fo<id 
come  from  steady  l.ibor  aloiu',  and  with  them  muscular  labor  is 
not  lacking  of  the  honor  which  should  be  the  result  of  (iod's  fiat, 
"  Hy  the  sweat  of  thy  face  slialt  thou  earn  thy  dail\-  bread."  We 
honor  labor  in  America,  but  we  think  it  the  more  liouomble  when 
we  let  the  other  fellow  do  it. 

Youn^  America,  north  as  well  as  south,  rushes  to  the  citv  in  the 
hope  of  fine  clothes,  ^a)-  times,  and  little  sweat.  The  result  is 
inevitable,  lirilliant,  idle,  indolent,  and  luxurious  youn^  .Vmerica 
is  havin;4  his  phice  taken  i)y  the  hardy  ■^ons  of  northern  Kuroiie. 
They  come  not  with  the  l)attle-axe  and  the  iron  mace,  killing'  and 
slayiiiL,',  but  with  sturdy  muscles,  iron  spades,  and  picks,  comjuer- 
iii^  and  sujiplantini,'.  lirii;ht  and  iiitelli^'ent  youni;  .\merica  needs 
not  be  killed.  It  will  die  out  and  its  place  be  taken  by  the  immi- 
grant it  now  laughs  at  and  calls  uncouth.  Sic  semper  I  11  j 
battle  may  be  to  the  swift,  but  the  land  inevitably  goes  t  >  the 
strong  and  to  I'.e  enduring.  The  l''inns  are  a  sturdy  r.ice,  bn; 
just  now  they  arc  a  somewhat  an.xious  people.  Last  winter  w,is 
here  and  in  Russia  the  coKlest  known  within  too  years,  and  >o  far 
the  summer  has  been  the  coolest  felt  within  140  years.  The  grain 
of  all  sorts  shows  no  sign  of  yellowing,  and  is  from  two  to  three 
weeks  later  than  usual,  and  but  little  hay  has  been  made.  .An 
earl)'  frost  would  be  disastrous,  ,iiul  some  are  feeling  (|uite  blue. 
It  seems  singular  to  see  rye  being  put  in  the  ground  for  next 
year's  crop,  while  cU)se  by  it  is  a  waving  fieUl  of  this  year  with 
heads  )-et  unfilled.  The  grass  laiuls  ])rescnted  a  busy  scene  on 
the  few  sunny  days  we  have  had  among  them.  Man,  woman,  and 
child  were  out,  all  making  hay  while  the  sun  shone,  aiul  at  ten 
o'clock,  tlu'  evenings  looked  almost  .is  bus)'  in  the  lia)--fieKls  as 
did  the  mid-da)- 

Uleaborg  is  a  [)rett\'  city  of  ne.irly  Jo.ooo  people  ;  iloes  a  heavy 
export  business  in  tar  and  fish,  .md  is  the  centre  of  the  lumber 
trade.  A  large  number  of  ships,  mostly  barges,  lie  out  at  anchor 
near  it  and  in  many  of  the  creeks  and  ba)s  on  the  coast  up  to 
Tornea.  We  must  have  seen  thirty  or  mon-  betwi'en  these  points, 
all  being  loaded  with  lumber  for  ICngl.iiul  and  (iermaii)'.  A  large 
lumber  traffic  is  also  done  from  the  lake  regions  tlinnigh  the 
canal.  It,  however,  is  principally  for  .St.  IV-tersburg  and  the  east- 
ern Baltic  ports.     The   rafts  are    general!)-  towed   b)'  small  tugs, 


I 


1^1 


M 


:n 


■ulv. 


^i! 


1  ■ 


n 


ii 


;» 


; hi:  ! 


1 


7^ 


.  ■/' 


48o 


A  A'./t  /     ////■//    ////.   M  .\\ 


',1       .» 


!  < 


{ 


i  ;-. 


and  somr  we  saw  bcin^;  lirawii  by  moans  of  a  windlass  tinned  l)y 
.1  horse  attaclicd  to  a  swcej)  u|)on  the  raft.  There  i-^  also  at 
Uleabor^r  an  extensive  tanniiifj  business.  A  very  ^ood  liarness 
.mil  sole  leather  i>  made  by  tisinfj  the  bark  lA  a  small  willow  bnsli 
whicii  ^'nows  ever\*where  on  lite  lowish  lands  and  is  substitu'ed 
for  oak  jHBcl  hemlock. 

Last  iJetember  at  .Sin^rapnre,  within  a  dejjjnc  of  the  equator, 
we  ft;lt  an  intense  di^ire  ti'  visit  that  inon>t(r  nothing,  \\liiih 
bends  the  mightiest  ocean  currents,  and  to  stand  astride  that 
gossamer  ti;,'ment  of  science  which  stills  to  a  ze|)!i_\r  the  Ik  reest 
troj)ic.il  storm.  I'inding  ourselves  a  few  days  .igo  mily  ,i  deuice 
and  a  iialf  .iway  from  another  geoi^r.iphie.d  tiction  which  bids  tlu- 
gre.it  ruler  of  the  d.iy  to  p.iuse  m  his  daily  rounds  and  for  m.u'ly 
.1  half-moiTth,  tieiiies  him  his  ni:;htly  rest-  tin-  intangible  .md  iin- 
palp.djle  arctic  circle,  which  fnr  lidii.;  mnnllis  ImiiS  the  (h'luon  ><{ 
darkness  f.ist  in  his  frozen  grasp.  ,ind  tn  •■ur  \c>U!ig  im.i;^in.iti'>ns 
has  been  a  necklace  of  Irost  hung  up>>ti  tiic  bosom  of  tin  iii.rili. 
ern  world  ;  I'lnding  om'->el\es  s<>  dose  to  th.it  iwei't  I.den  wliich 
•^Mme  scientist-'  think  is  w.irme<l  intutiMiliiiiioiis  diliciou--  summer 
li\-  nii'thcr-earth-  ceiitr.il  fires,  whence  man  w.is  forever  b.ini^hi.'d 
w  hiu  he  presunieil  to  le.irn  th.it  which  >elonged  onlj-  to  hi-,  etern.il 
.M.iker,  and  .iround  which  is  thrown  an  imp.issible  b.irrier  of  crys. 
tal  swords  tl.isben;^  in  icy  l)rightu<;ss  .  so  closi-  to  that  rosy  home 
of  the  Horeali-  r,i».e,  whii  h  <l.irt-'  through  the  polar  opening  in 
earth's  roundeci  dome,  .md  dancing  .ithw.irt  the  sk\'  d.izzU  -  us 
wit!:  its  flitting  spiemlor; — rmdiiig  I'msclves  su  close  to  the  pol.ir 
circK,  we  res<(iived  to  enjoj-  the  si-usalion  of  being  within  the 
frigid  zone. 

A  run  of  tneivi-  hours  mi  .t  tiny  steamer  along  the  coast,  within 
man\'  gree.i  •^l.mds.  off  in.mv  little  ports  where  the  s.iw-nuil 
buzzes,  .m.l  bcfon  which  lay  man}'  ships  to  be.ir  off  lumln  r  to  bi- 
built  into  the  homes  of  other  l.mils ;  a  ple.is.ml  s.iil  brought  us 
to  the  mouth  of  the  I'orne.i  Kiver,  whii  h  brings  down  an  enor- 
mous volutne  of  w  .Iter  from  l..ipl.ind's  m<  Iting  snow  s.  Thi-^  is  th-' 
dividing  nwr  belut-eii  KiiS'-.i.m  I'inl.iiul  ,ind  northern  .Swi-dcn. 
( )n  the  Russian  side  is  tite  town  of  rorma.  .md  on  the  Swcdi-^h 
pretty  ilaparaiui.i.  connected  by  .i  long  fool-bridgc-  over  whicli  U'/ 
passed  to  visit  the  Swedish  ironlier  a'tcr  lo  o'clock  .it  night. 
Here  we  -.aw  m.m\  evidences  .)f  Swedisli  neati.ess  and  order. 
The  houses,  homes  of  ne.irl\-  j.cxx)  people,  are  of  ch.irmingl\'  iie.it 
hewn  or  sawed  logs, , ill  p.iinted  prettily,  gener.ill)' of  .i  luiitr.il  red 
tint  with  white  trimmings  .iloiig  windows  m\A  corners,  m-.irly  all 
with  gardens  and  <>n  cle.m  stncls,  .md  iii  .irly  ever)  other  one 
with  a  letter  and  p.iinr  b<;v,  showing  the  people  to  be  .i  reading 
one.  We  saw  many  of  the  ih'o|i|c  promi'n.iding.  .ill  well  dressed 
and  tidy,  even  one  of  them  who  w.is  tpiietl)'  imdiil.it iiig  from  one 
side  of  the  street  to  tlie  other,  .md  enjoying  gre,iily  .i  reolution 
not  to  go  home  till  morning,  .md  ;is  morning  wonlil  ci  ;ne  vo  ■'ooii 
h.id  l.ii<l  in  .i  he, ivy  sMp|)ly  of   •  br.iii  viii.  " 


(/ 


Ml 


IK 


TORN i: A  Rri'i-.R  A.vn  f/s  scrx/ Rv 


.»H, 


;  turned  by 
:  IS  also  at 
nd  liarness 
imIIow  bush 
siihstitu'cd 

u-  ciiiiator, 
liii^,  wliicli 
iStridi-  that 
Lhr  rurccsl 
l\'  a  (Ic^ri'c 
■ii  \^uU  tlu- 
1  for  luarly 
hie  ,(!)(!  iin- 
(.-  (l<nii)ii  (if 
ii.iL,iiialiiiiH 
'  tin-  iimtli- 
'".lU-ii  uliich 
HI'-  siiuiiiKr 
I  r  haiiishf.'il 
I  l)i-.  fteriKiI 
n\r  of  trys- 
losy  Imnu" 
"|)iini\;4  '" 
da/./li  s  us 
o  the  polar 
within  tin- 

)asl.  within 
u-  s.iw-niill 
ndu  r  to  1)1' 

M'ii;.;iit   ns 

^  II  .m  cnor- 

riii-,  IS  th'- 

n   S\\i<liii. 

u-  Swc(li-^1\ 

r  w  hiili  \kf 

:    at    iii;.;ht. 

mil    (irtliT. 

liiivdy  in'at 

ii  iitral  red 

nearly  ail 

iitlu;r    oiif 

•  a  rcidinj^ 

ill  dressed 

.;  from  one 

i>   (ihition 

111-    >0    -,(1011 


I  will  say  here,  for  flu-  hetiefit  of  dur  i)Mlii-,Mnen  an.!  tli,  ir  .irink- 
inj;  pets,  tiiat  throip^lioiit  Russia  and  somruliat  in  Kialaiid  wc 
iiave  seen  luaii)-  men  in  every  ^.ta^'e  of  .iriiiikeiincs,,  fi,,|ii  the  -gen- 
tleman eiidcavorinj,'  to  walk  a  straii^-lit  line,  to  tin-  stiipi.I  drunkaid 
asleep  ai^Minst  a  wall,  but  have  not  seen  a  sin.^K;  one  who  w.is  the 
least  noisy  on  the  streets;  nor  have  we  seen  a  poli^eiiiin  interfere 
with  the  <piiet  sta<„'t;crer,  except  to  help  him  (,,  m..iint  a  eurlv 
stone  or  to  ^et  into  a  drosky.  As  hei;^  .is  In-  d^es  n..t  distarb 
uthers  he  is  all  "ved  the  personal  liberty  ..f  ^;ettiii'4  drunk  .i;  he 
pleases.  TiK'y  r..c()<^ni/.(;  the  doetrine  of  the  economy  of  vice, 
and  jiermit  a  fool  to  (piietl\'  kill  himself  rather  than  take  cire  <»f 
and  protect  him  a;^ainst  himself  .it  the  expense  of  the  st.iti-.  ,\lter 
all.  has  Jack  not  as  iniuh  rii^ht  to  catch  his  death  by  sleepiii;^  in 
a  ditch  with  a  heavy  load  of  whiskey  .ib...ird.  ,e.  Mr.  riuiii[)li.is 
to  pull  apoplexy  <iut  <>f  a  di^li  of  terrapin,  nr  Miss  (Irace  to  court 
consumption  with  thin  sIidc-,  .md  ti;4hl  lacis?  The  woiM  j  j.oi- 
tin.,'  very  full,  and  the  fool-killer  in.iy  )et  be  reco;.;ni/.ed  .is  .i  val- 
uable f.ictor  ill  political  ecunoiny. 

r<u-ne.i  is  .1  few  minutes  below  the  (rfi'.h  p.ir.illi'l.  Tlieiue  up  to 
the  Tt^llt  we  rode  in  little  c.irts,  |)ostiii;.,'  .is  we  had  done  in  the- 
interior,  and  .is  we  afterw.irds  did  back  ti.  I'lealxiie;.  The  ride 
w. Is  a  delightful  line  and  the  scenery  very  ch  irmiM;.(.  The  river 
,ivc'r.«;.;es  iie.iily  a  third  of  ,i  mile  in  uidtli.  ni'W  tl  wiiv^  for  mik"* 
in  .1  pl.icid  str<'.im  with  stioii;^  current,  .ind  then  f  •!•  a  mile  or  si> 
a  d.ishinLj  rapid,  nisliiii;,;  as  violently  .is  the  r.ipids  above  the 
Americanfall.it  Ni.i;.;aia.  Here  it  would  widen  into  .i  sheet  •«> 
l)riiad  as  to  desi-rve  to  be  char.icteri/ed  .i  lake  ;  then  C'>iitr.ul»n(i, 
it  would  rush  in  .i  narrow  bed  .iml  r-'.ir  in  deafeiiin;^'  n«iise.  J/.tr 
out  iiito  the  r.ipids,  .md  sometimes  .ilnii  -t  icross  the  stre.mi,  ,irc 
built  many  stnui;;  fences  or  frames,  .immi!,'  which  diirinj^  the  sea- 
son tr.ips  and  nets  .ire  set  fur  s.iluion.  I  he  cilcli  is  v<  ry  {;re;it, 
.mil  next  to  lumlMr  is  the  princip.il  e\|)Mri.  link  fmm  the  river, 
at  dist.mces  varjin;^  frmn  "iie  to  two  miles,  ,ire  r.in:;es  ,,f  broken 
hills  from  lO)  or  200  to  j\oc)  or  vx'  f'l  t  li:  'ji  ,iiid  Ihjimi;.;  dnwii  to 
the  stream.  Their  crests  .ire  wnnded.  iim  tl\'  in  Ir  -  .md  |tines, 
while  the  slopes  an-  ntme  or  less  cultivated,  with  nd  f-irm-hmises 
but  uiip.iiiited  b.irns,  cow-  .iiu!  Iki\-  houses.  I'leipiently  these 
biiildinj^s  follow  so  closely  one  to  .mother  as  t'l  appear  a  succes- 
sion of  sc.ittered  vil!aj;es.  All  c.itlle  bein^  housed  for  six  to 
eii,dit  months  niakes  so  many  buildii^.js  neccss.iry  th.it  ipiite  ,\ 
sin.ill  f.irin  seems  a  hamlit.  Ihe  .Swedi-h  side  nf  the  liverpie- 
sents  the  more  prosperous  home  life.  Hut  the  f.uins  on  either 
are  so  many,  th''  houses  so  abund.mt,  and  t!ie  ci'ps  (,f  birles  .iml 
potatoes  so  bounliful  th.it  it  w.is  hard  to  realize  that  we  were  just 
outside  the  arctic  circle.  The  scenery  w.is  pritty,  possessing 
many  of  the  char.icti  ristics  of  th.it  shuwn  by  the  Siisipieli.mna  in 
I'eiinsylvani.i.  The  tintinj,;,  however,  er'tireU-  kicked  warmth,  and 
li.ul  too  uniformly  .i  cold,  ^reon  tone.  The  .itmosphere  had  <i 
darkened  tone,  something;  like  certain  fine  cut  t;Iass  in  which  lamp- 


'   * 


m 


H 


'    '.  I 


I  J 

i 


\i 


■4 


m 


i      t 

I 


48t 


//  J?.-1C/i  WITH  THE  SUN. 


U 


'i/H 


black  sccins  to  have  been  dissolved.  Anotlicr  striking  feature  tip 
here  is  a  sort  of  ali-pcrvadinj^  silence.  The  world  seems  to  be 
hushed  and  <]iiiet.  Hut  still  the  trip  was  well  worth  makinf^  for 
the  scenery  alon^ ,  and  in  that  way  repaid  us  for  the  fati!;i;e. 

The  second  day  from  Tornea  brotipht  us  to  Aavasaki^a,  an  iso 
latcd  mountain  700  feet  hij^h,  and  just  below  the  circle,  when  tin: 
sun  was  yet  three  to  four  hours  up.  The  panorama  from  its 
summit  was  mai^jtiificent.  Around  us  for  many  miles  lay,  in 
brok /n  piles,  low  n'ountains,  ftreen  with  forests,  and  hero  and 
i;hcrc  bright  with  little  sheets  of  water.  The  great  river  wound 
amoncj  tiie  hills,  cnmiiur  from  the  north  and  swecpinjj;  in  a  broad 
clianncl  below  us,  with  1  lands  and  a  few  scattered  farms,  and  an 
affluent  stream  coming  from  the  cast  with  a  fall,  a  few  versts 
away,  whose  roar  was  mellow  and  soothinj^  ;  far  toward  the  smjih 
the  river  swept  in  a  placifl  sheet.  But  our  eyes  rested  with  in- 
tense interest  upon  some  blue  hilis  a  deforce  farther  north,  on 
which  for  thiec  days  in  each  year  old  Sol  rolls  in  vain  cndeiviT 
to  end  his  lon^f  diurnal  run.  Ilundreds  of  visitors,  f-T  whosr 
benefit  a  pretty  pavilion  has  been  erected  on  the  mou  .  ■  t(>]i, 
come  here  in  the  three  lon^  days  (if  June  to  look  up<  n  i!  •,  mid 
night  sun.  We  spent  two  hours  enjoying  the  splendid  panorani,i, 
and  then  dri^vc  to  a  station  five  miles  yet  to  the  north,  where  "  > 
were  to  st  ip  for  the  night.  There  we  took  a  fresh,  strong,  tougli 
Finland  hor~e,  and  after  watching  the  sun  set  at  9.40,  d.rovc  tow- 
ard the  north  pole,  to  spend  the  exact  midnight,  wiien  we  knew 
■we  woidd  be  miles  within  the  fvigid  zone. 

It  ma_\'  have  be(>n  an  idle  fancy,  hut  there  was  a  delightful 
charm  in  the  lonely  drive  along  the  baid<s  of  the  splendid  livcr, 
which  for  a  mile  or  so  was  a  rushing  rapid  ;  through  lanes  of  silver 
birch  and  tall  firs  lifting  like  sjiires  on  either  side,  and  looking 
upon  the  northern  horizon,  which  stretched  for  m.uiy  liegrces 
east  and  west  in  warm  and  brilliant  glow.  A  few  long  bantls  o(" 
clouds  lay  close  to  the  earth,  like  ribbons  in  pink,  frini-ed  with 
flame,  with  others  above  them  in  gold  and  violrt,  while  tloatiii; 
half  way  to  the  zenith  were  fleecy  clouds  in  purple  with  goUlen 
fringe.  These  brilliant  dyes  changed  not  nor  melted  away  as  one- 
looked  upon  them,  but  seemed  painted  in  living  colors  upon  .in 
eternal  c.mvas  ;  clouds  would  slowly  move,  bi't  their  tints  ,iiid 
colorings  seemed  to  move  witii  them.  The  only  visiliic  and 
marked  change  was  in  .1  lengthening  out  of  the  glowing  horizon 
as  the  sun  irioved  below  more  to  the  east.  We  p.iuscd  just  .it  I.' 
and  silently  w.itched  the  str.inge  and  weirrl  scene,  ami  my  watch 
showing  exact  midnight,  Willie  took  out  ;i  book  and  re, id  .1  page 
by  the  bright  light  coming  from  due  north.  A  bat  tit  w  close  to 
our  luadi,  a  toad  Iiop[)rd  jicross  the  ro.id,  and  we  heard  the  tinki'" 
of  a  distant  cow-bell.  How  strange  it  sounded  I  there  was  no  othei 
living  sonnd  to  be  heard  ;  not  the  buzz  of  a  single  insect.  A  gen 
tie  murmur  came  from  a  river  rapid  a  half  mile  or  more  aw  ly 


it  (lli 


P  feature  up 
seems  to  be 
1  inakinj^  for 
fatic;ije. 
iak;,a,  an  iso 
Ic,  wluMi  th(; 
ma  from  its 
niics  lay,  in 
ml  hero  and 
river  won  ml 
i;j;  in  a  broad 
inns,  and  an 
a  few  vcrsts 
ird  the  s^iaili 
ted  with  in 
ler  nnrtli,  on 
ain  endeavor 
^,   f'>r   whose 

OK      ,    >    :       top, 

D(  n  ill-  mid- 
id  panorama, 
th,  where  ^'  • 
;tronfj,  ton^li 
">,  drove  tow 


hen  we 


kn( 


a  deli^^htfn! 
)lcndid  liver, 
ancs  of  silver 

and  looking^ 
i.itiy  dei^rees 
on;^  b.'iiuls  nf 
frin;.;ed  with 
^■hile  floatin.; 

with  golden 

I  away  as  one 
ilors  upon  .in 
eir  tints  and 
'  visible  and 
iwin^  horizon 
sed  just  at  \: 
ml  my  watcli 

II  read  a  paije 
llew  close  to 

ard  the  tinkle 
was  no  other 
isect.    A  j;en 
r  more  awav 


//    WEIRD  MIDNIGHT  IN  THF.  FRlCfD  /.ONE.    .,83 

Its  plaintive  nnirnnir  seemed  to  intensify  the  jirevailinj^r  .silence. 
IIow  stranc^ely  soundetl  th.it  cow-hell  so  f.ir  towards  The  unapl 
pro.ichable  north  pole  I  We  were  ne.irly  upon  the  67th  decree  ui 
north  latitude,  and  some  n>ile  ;  witl.in  tli.it  circle  which  we  had 
always  re;^'ariled  as  the  s)iionyni  of  eternal  fr,.st.  Nnrthw,;nl  the 
woods  openeil.  ^Mvin;4  us  a  cle.ir  view;  .ih.iut  us  were  tall  birch 
trees  like  sentinels  in  uniforms  of  froste-.l  silver,  t'aeir  li'dit  foli.i  -e 
bendin^f  in  plumes  of  l.ice,  ami  .i  few  fits  in  solemn  ;^reen.  .About 
their  roots  were  strewn  boulders  uf  all  .-izes,  but  over  •;n.mul  .ind 
boulders  were  spread  caipetin-s  of  or.iy  moss  so  thPck  th.it  we 
.sank  into  it  to  our  aid^ljs.  We  cut  b.uk  on  which  to  write  our 
names  as  souvenirs  of  this,  our  f.irthest  northern  tr.ivel.  Wist- 
fully and  in  silence  we  hioked  at  the  [glorious  picture'  p.iinted  on 
the  nortlurn  sky,  antl,  mountiiiLj  our  cut,  slowly  trotted  back  to 
our  station,  which  we  reached  as  the  sun  wa>  just  ri>in|^  \\\w\\  our 
backs.  We  have  .seen  cpiite  a  number  of  to.uls  f.ir  uj)  here,  but 
h.ive  not  heard  a  sound  from  one.  They  .im!  (r<  ;^s  i.ike  the  place 
of  sin';inL,^-birds  in  the  tro])ics.  Here  thev  are  now  silent.  The 
ne.\t  two  d.iys  we  h.id  .1  r.ither  dism.il  ride  in  liL;lu  and  cold  r.iins, 
but  we  cired  not  ;  we  had  obtained  what  we  came  tea-  a\\i.\  had 
fine  weather  for  it,  .ind  besides  we  h.id  .ilready  seei.  ino:->t  of  the 
road.  We  had,  however,  ;;ood  weather  f(u-our  list  d.iy's  postia-^, 
and  for  our  run  south  by  rail  from  I'le.ibor;.,'  to  1  lelsiui^fors. 

The  r.iuro.ui  carried  us  throie^h  much  in'.erestin;^  countr\-,  witl) 
thin  kinds  .ind  little  cuitiv.uion,  until  we  c.nne  to  Lake  N.isjari, 
180  miles  north  of  the  south  line  of  I-'inland  'I'hence  there  was 
some  extpiisite  sceiierj-.  We  skirted  this  and  Lake  I'yh.ij.irvi 
for  nearly  loo  miles,  now  with  wide  water  \  lews,  .uul  then  with 
bits  of  inlet  and  bays  with  Ioiilj  promontories  and  isl.imls,  and 
a  very  consider.tble  extent  of  f.irminL,'  country,  ^ivini^  the  land- 
scape some'  of  th.it  delicious  home  .ind  w.iter  scener\'  so  nukh 
admired  on  the  north  I".n;_;l.ind  l.ikes.  The  country  .ill  .iloiit;  the 
Hothni.i  c  ).ist  h.is  much  more  of  .Swedish  char.icteristics  th.m  in 
the  central  portions  of  the  land.  In  the  towns  the  better  cl.isses 
speak  Sweilish  almost  entirely,  and  the  f.irnis  .and  houses  are  pre- 
tentious. Iiulecd,  there  are  few  countries  in  which  there  .ire  s<j 
j;ood  f.irm-hou.->cs  and  b.irns.  l''rom  this  down  the  rye  w,is 
nearly  read)'  for  the  sickle,  .md  we  were  in  .1  decidedly  temperate 
zone. 

Tammersft  rs  ami  Tav.isteluius  are  two  pictures(]ue  towns,  one 
with  .1  fine  old  cistle,  .md  .1  r.ipid  river  runnin;^  throiit;h  the  centre 
with  .1  f.ill  of  .about  oo  fi  et,  .tlfordiiiL,'  a  boundless  w  .iti'rpower,  .i 
most  beautiful  series  of  intermur.d  pictures,  and  .1  ro.ir  which  cm 
alw.iys  be  heard  over  the'  noise  of  the  town.  The  views,  too, 
from  different  points  .d)out  these  two  towns  ,ire  as  line  as  hun- 
dreds in  other  kinds  which  furnish  the  only  attractions  for  long 
excursions.  .Swedish  blooil  aloni;  the  western  siile  of  I'^inkind  is 
very  app.irent  .inioiiLj  the  women.       They  are  better-lookin^j  .md 


\ 


I.I 


■  il 
•J 


Hi-- 


"if 


\ 


H 


Bil    •.■ 


> ; ' 


f?u 


:  11 1 


\  m 


<  .1 1| 

I] 


>^! 


II 


4&I 


^  Av/cVi  /r/T-//  r/z/s-  .sv/iV. 


not  worked  quite  so  hard  as  horses,  as  arc  those  of  the  inner  lake 
regions.  \\\-  saw  many  exceedingly  pretty  ones  at  station  iiouses 
all  the  way  on  our  ride  between  Uleabor^  and  tiie  nortii  circle. 
Tiiree  daiiL^litt.  vs  of  one  liouse  were  of  a  liehcate  txpc  of  beauty 
that  would  h.ive  made  them  attractive  in  any  jjarior.  We  saw 
several  photos  from  relatives  in  America,  pictures  taken  in  Min- 
neai)olis  and  Wisconsin  On  our  train  was  a  youn;^'  peasant  ^irl 
on  liL-r  way  to  Norlherii  Michii^an.  Shir  will  not  have  to  work  as 
hard  tlierc  as  iier  sisterliood  do  in  this  land.  Here  tiiere  is  abso- 
lute woman's  ri^dits;  they  seem  tliorou^hly  iuikpciulent,  and  ex- 
ercise the  ri;4lit  to  do  all  tlie  heavy  iluties  of  life  ([uite  as  freely  .is 
do  tliL'ir  husi),inds  and  brotiicrs. 

1  was  told  of  a  custom  amont;  the  purely  I'innish  peasantry  of 
the  interior  which  show-;  a  verj-  ])eculiar  freedom  between  the 
sexes — .1  species  of  marriaLje  on  trial.  A  couple  live  to'^ether  as 
man  and  wife — somewhat  clandeslinely,  but  often  with  the  knowl- 
ed{je  of  the  parents — for  a  year,  after  which,  if  they  (inil  the  rela- 
tionship conducive  to  happiness,  they  j^o  before  the  pastor  and 
have  the  knot  tieil  by  law  and  church.  If  not  aj^'reeable  they 
separate,  which  separation  does  not  hurt  the  i;irl  .or  other  en- 
gagements. The  ])arents  are,  when  co;4nizant  of  ilu;  arrange- 
ment, c;ireful  to  havi'  witnesses  to  it.  Then,  if  the  man  b.ieks 
out,  lie  is  forced  to  ^ive  one-half  of  what  he  owns  to  the  lU'siMleii 
girl.  Tin;  man  I'udeavors  to  <.'cl  up  the  affair  witiiout  witnesses, 
in  which  <wcnl  '"■  \  not  held.  luil  he  is  compelleil  to  supjjort  the 
offspiiiu;,  if  there  In.'  any,  such  offsjirin^  beiii;^  rccoL^i'.ized  !))•  the 
gill's  familw  Infanticide  in  an\-  of  its  forms  is  unkiiown  in  the 
land. 

At  Tava^tehuus  I  saw  a  ^rouj)  of  li^ht  or  ten  women,  all  well 
dressed,  on  the  pl.itform  of  the  railway  station.  One  of  th>ni  w.i-- 
a  rosy-faced,  [)rett)'  giil  of  about  20.  She  carried  a  m.i;.;mtlciiU 
bou(|uet,and  w.is  the  recipient  of  much  attention  from  the  others, 
who  kissetl  her  twice  round.  When  the  last  w.irnini;  bell  r.in;^ 
she  was  locki-d  in  the  .irrns  of  an  eUlirrly  woman,  who  with  stream- 
ing eyes  str.iin<'d  her  a;^'ain  and  again  to  her  he.irt,  and,  I  s.iw, 
aski'il  the  good  ( iod  to  bless  her  child.  Tlccy  were  mother  and 
daughter.  As  the  tr.iin  pulled  out  the  girl  sto<'d  upon  the  c.ir 
platform  and  bade  them  .idieu  w  ilh  wel  cheeks.  I5(il  I  thoii;;ht  I 
s.nv  a  ray  — .i  gleam  u(  cheery  liope  shining  through  her  tear^.  I 
asked  A  m.m  where  she  was  going.  "  1  ill  Amerika — till  Minnis- 
sota,"  was  the  repl)-.  Ah  I  I  then  read  th.it  hopeful  light  in  her 
te.irful  eyes.  She  was  leaving  frientls  anil  kiiulred  to  go  all  .ilonc 
to  the  f.u"  off  land,  where  her  lover  h.id  gone  before  her,  and  where 
she  v.'as  to  join  him,  to  fill  the  nest  he  had  built  up  for  his  com- 
ing m.ite.  \\'ho  knows  what  high  i)l.ice-<  the  young  to  be  h.itched 
in  that  free  nest  may  fill  in  the  lake  St.ite  of  the  Northwest  r 

Ilelsingfors  is  a  very  pretty,  finisheil  town  of  fifty-odd  thous,in<i 
people.     It  is  admirably  p.ived,  has  fine  public  buildings,  a  preiry 


J ' : 


ic  inner  lake 
ation  liousL's 
north  circle. 
10  of  beauty 
)i".  Wc  saw 
:»kcn  in  Min- 
pcasint  ^irl 
c  to  work  as 
here  is  abso- 
le!it,  and  ex- 
e  as  free!}-  as 

peasant  r\'  of 
bitwein  till' 
;  tot^ether  as 
th  the  knowl- 
tind  tile  rela- 
e  pastor  and 
Tee.ibie  tiiry 

,or   OliUT  IMI- 

tlu;  arr,uii;i-- 
o  man  b.icks 
tlie  deserted 
ut  witnesses, 
•  support  tile 
p.ized  i)y  tile 
•ciiown  in  tiie 

nun.  ali  will 
of  tll'lll  w.i- 

niai^nificent 
11  tlie  otliers, 
n;^  l)ell  r.iii;.; 
witii  streani- 
;,  and,  I  s.nv, 

niotlicr  and 
upon  tlie  ear 
.  I  tlu>u;;lU  I 
lu  r  tear-,      I 

till    Minnis- 

i^iit  in  iirr 
)  j^o  ail  alone 

r.  and  wh<'re 
(or  iii^  com 

p  in:  liatcUt'd 
itiuvot  r 
i<Kl  tlioii^ani! 
ings,  a  pretty 


J/i:i.SIJVGFORS. 


485 


garden  and  esplanade,  wiure  music  i>  pl.i\  ed  cacli  cvuiu;;  .uid 
tiiousands  sip  tea,  coffee,  or  beer,  ami  enji>y  a  soci.il  time,  riiero 
aru-  about  the  city  some  fine  views  and  a  noble  Lutheran  church. 
The  l""inns  are  nearly  all  Lutherans,  there  lienii;  few  Ronvwi  or 
Gree';  churches  in  tlie  couutrv.  'riuy  lia\e  in  the  inte.iorand 
north  a  droll  iiunle  of  bei;;^iii^f  for  the  churcli.  In  front  of  e.ich 
of  several  villaj^c  churches  we  saw  a  larf^c  wooden  man  in  some- 
what c!  "rica!  diess,  with  painted,  sleek  cheeks  and  hat,  ([uite  well 
executed,  standing  near  the  road,  with  a  poise  of  h.Mid  ^h()winj.J 
he  was  makinjj  a  requesl.  His  abdonu-n  is  a  locked  b-ix,  inl(^ 
wliich  the  passer-by  can  drop   his   jjcnnies   without   enterin;^   the 

portals   of   the   sacred    edifiee.      If   J  )r. had   erected  one  of 

these  in  front  of  his  fme  cluirch  .it  home,  wii.it  a  world  of  p. allelic 
ple.idini,'  he  couKl  have  saved. 

We  have  now  been  two  and  a  half   months   in   R.i<sia  :uui  her 
dependencies;  we  liavi-  seen  her   proviues  and   jieitple  more  or 
less  Asiatic,  some  of  them  purely  ( )ririUal ;  have  seen    Ru>-i.ins 
in  their  orij^inal  home  and  ia  their  con(|ii'Ted  dominions,     1  have 
thus   been   enabled   to   dr.iw   som<-   conclusiovis,  ami   I  thijik  fair 
ones,  as  to  the  rel.it ions  of  this  mi;.;hty  con<]iierii;;_;  n.nion.  with 
her  Asiatic  con<iueretl   subji-cts,  and  to  compare   -uch   rrl.uions 
with  those  existini:  in  Indi.i  between  the  En<^lidi  .md  their  brown- 
skinned  subjects.      I  came  to  this  eountn.-  with  .1  tr.uiitional   h.i- 
tred  for  the  autocr.itic  rule  of  tK     Ku>^ian  nion.ireh.  and  with  my 
s\inpathies  all  on  the  siiie  of  the  An;.;li)-.Saxon   aiul   aL;ainst   the 
Slav.    These  prejuilices  have  been  considerably  removed,  and  I  em 
now  look  e.ilnil}'  upon  w  h.it  may  be  the  inevitable,  and  dr.iw  juster 
eonelusions  ,is  to  wli.it  th.it  iaevit.ibU'  will  lie.      In  l;i\  in;,^  my  ideas 
let  it  not  be  understood  that  I  preteml  not  to  have  ilerived  tlum 
solely  from  obser\'at  ion  ;    I   ;.;ot   much  secoiuUhand.       Hut  liuivc 
seen  enou;;h  to  i)e  .ible  to  t(  11  how  f.ir  this  secoiuUh.ind  informa- 
tion  may  be  reli.ible.     A  liltlc   leading;  about  a  country,  witii  a 
superficial  ])erson.d   obsi-rvation,  ^ives  a  belti-r  knowhd^^e   of  it 
til. in  a  deep  stuily  of  the  same  in  tlie  closet  at  home.     <  )ur  wisest 
biblic.il   student   in   his  studir  surrounded   with  l)o.,k ,  and  every 
edition  of   the  <  )lii   ami    New   Te-^t.im -iil^,  does  n<>t   eominthend 
the  trutlis  of  the  Hible  as  well  as  .1  f.ir  less  le.irned  m.'.ii  docs,  who 
h.is  lived  amoiv^  the  ble.ik  hills  .uid  the  v.iUeys  wherv   Jesus  lived 
and  walki'd,  and  h.is  stmlied  ( )rient.il  eh.ir.icter  from  li"-in-  models. 
A  thoughtful    iii.in  c  in   reacli  some  juster  conclusion  .if'.er  a  hur- 
ried tour  of  t,M)  or  three  months  in  liidi.i.imi  Kussi.i.  coupled  with 
su.pc-rfici.i3   reiMiin*::.  th.in  a  f^r   ibler  one  e.m  from  lou.;  studv  at 
home.     For  ti**  Utter  is  more  or  le.ss  compelled  to  i,it  his  idea 
fr  111  m<  n  wii"  *^w  with  prejudiced  -nvs  or  wrtJtc  with  ^tipendary 
p'  MS,      It  is  often  iliifu  ult  to  di  t'-rniine  whether  a  le.irned  treati.se 
toucliin^  Luro^ean  pohtics,  or  on  an\   subject  affeetiii:;  siuh  nol- 
itics,  is  ,1  seientific.   Iionest    dissertation,  or  .1   p.qier  paid  for  by 
the  diplomatic  bureau  of  om-  or  another  European  power. 


4' 

. 

'  'i 

i 

\ 

,.,v 

1-; 

if.! 


t     > 

l»l 


-     V 


]V 


•  ,  { 


486 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\)i 


f.   ' 


f 


Americans  arc  intensely  lovers  of  ideal  liberty,  and  haters  of 
theoretic  slavery.  The  "idea"  aiul  the  "  theory  "  arc  perfectly 
satisfactor}'  to  the  vast  majority.  With  the  kno\vledj;e  that  they 
can  be  free  when  they  wisli,  and  cannot  be  made  unwilling;  slaves, 
tliey  are  not  only  willing  but  ^I  ui  to  have  others,  whom  they 
imagine  their  servants,  to  do  all  tiie  governin;^  while  they  them- 
.^clves  are  left  updisturbcd  to  build  up  homes  and  to  amass  wealth 
for  themselves  and  their  children.  A  more  tithe  of  them  re.illy 
think  for  themselves.  Once  every  year  they  ima_L,'ine  they  do 
considerable  thinking  on  governmental  affairs,  and  every  four 
yca's  are  hugely  impressed  with  the  profundity  of  their  thought, 
and  i>f  their  intense  earnestness  in  putting  their  thought  into 
action.  lUit  if  we  are  candiil  witii  ourselves,  we  must  confess  that 
a  very  few  have  done  our  thinking,  and  we  m:irch  up  to  the  polls 
to  put  into  action  the  determinations  of  a  mere  handful.  Hut  we 
are  freemen  an<l  do  this  of  our  own  accord,  and  are  gkul  that  the 
few  have  saved  us  from  achinjr  labor,  and  we  imagine  we  choose 
this  li.mdful  which  saves  us  so  much  rack  of  brain. 

Now  the  children  of  ages — untold  ages  of  Asiatic  despotism 
do  not  care  a  fig  for  this  ideal  or  for  this  theory.  Tluy  arc  satisfied, 
as  tiuir  forefathers  have  been  for  countless  centuries,  to  let  the  (lod 
of  I'.itc  select  the  men  who  think  for  them,  and  blindiy  follow 
without  a  dream  of  any  thing  different,  and  are  never  aroused 
from  their  skep  unless  west'-rn  agitatitm  thunders  in  their  ears, 
and  even  then  they  are  not  awakened,  but  listles>ly  and  half- 
asleep,  utter  a  "  Mashallah  "  or  invocation  to  some  licathen  god, 
and  forget.  The  Russian,  like  his  eastern  neighbor,  not  only  cares 
not  for  this  idr.d  and  this  theory,  but  ha.5  schooled  himself  to  the 
belief  that  while  lu'  himself,  iiulividi'.ally,  may  be  capable  of  self- 
government,  his  in.i_,dibors  are  ni>t.  He  believes  that,  while  he 
himself  might  stand  as  a  free  man,  his  neighbors  would  make 
fools  of  tlu'insc-lves,  aiul  in  their  folly  wi>uld  give  gre.it  trouble, 
lie  is  thert.'fore  perfectly  satisfied  to  let  his  "  Little  I-"ather,"  the 
autocratic  czar,  do  all  his  thinking  and  save  him  the  trouble,  and 
to  do  all  the  acting  and  thus  save  him  from  hi-  foolish  neighbors. 
All  he  asks  is  to  be  let  alone  to  attend  t<'  his  own  affairs,  .ind  his 
"  Little  I'",ither"  iloes  so  let  him  alone.  He  has  complete  personal 
liberty,  lie  can  work  and  eat  and  chink  and  can  get  drunk  if  he 
wishes,  and  whatever  interference  he  feels  fr<im  his  ruler  ho  thinks 
absolutely  necessary  to  keep  not  himself  but  his  unwisi-  neighbors 
from  doing  harm.  1  le  therefore  submits  without  a  murmur.  When 
he  goes  as  a  con(]ueror  into  Asia  he  gives  this  same  sort  of  rule 
t(^  the  C(in(|uered,  \\1  ich  is  a  v.ist  improvenu-nt  upon  the  system 
they  have  grown  up  under,  and  under  which  no  man  hatl  any  thing 
he  could  call  his  own  il  his  superiors  coveted  it.  The  czar  is  gov- 
erned by  no  written  law,  but  he  is  far  more  governed  by  public 
opinion  th.in  is  the  Tresident  of  the  United  States,  cxce])t  just 
before  our  king  asks  the  peojMe  for  another  tc  rm,  when  he  becomes 


^d  haters  of 
I  re  jjcrfcctly 
j^c  that  they 
ilHiii;  slaves, 

ulioni  they 

tliey  theni- 

mass  wealth 

them  really 

iiic   they  do 

every  four 
eir  thoujjlU, 
hou^ht  into 
Confess  that 

to  tile  polls 
fill.  Hut  we 
lad  that  the 
e  we  choose 

ic  despotism 
are  satisfied, 
)let  the  God 
indiy  follow 
■ver  aroused 
1  their  ears, 
■ly  and  half- 
icatheii  {;oii, 
;)t  only  cares 
iinself  to  the 
)able  of  SL-If- 
lat,  wliile  he 
would  make 
r<Mt  trouble, 
l-ather."  the 
trouble,  and 
ii  nei^'hbors. 
airs,  and  his 
lete  personal 
drunk  if  he 
ler  lie  thinks 
si-  iieij^hbois 
r:nur.  When 
sort  of  rule 
1  the  system 
ail  anv  thiiu' 
czar  is  fjov- 
d  by  i>ublic 
cxce])t  ju>t 
he  becomes 


KUSSIANS  FRATERNIZE  Wiril  THE  COXQC EREJJ.    487 

keenly  alive  to  the  wishes  of  tlie  dear  unwa-^lud.  'riic  c/ar,  too, 
is  j^overned  and  restrained  by  an  inlcnse  ieliL;i(ais  iika— by  riijid 
customs.  This  reli^'ioii  is  that  of  Christ,  which  i)rcaclus' j^ood- 
will  to  all  and  love  and  human  kindness.  He  is  an  autocrat,  )et 
he  does  not  run  counter  to  this  idea  nor  violate  iIksc  cintoms. 
His  crown  would  not  be  worth  the  velvet  which  softens  the  metal 
to  his  blow,  should  he  attempt  tt)  violate  this  idea  or  disobey 
these  customs.  He  would  imt  wear  it  a  week;  his  soldiers  would 
tear  it  from  his  iiead.  He  has  carried  his  armies  into  I-"iiiland, 
ami  the  Finns  ^'ovein  themselves  and  are  aniouL;  the  freest  peojjlc 
in  Europe.  Just  iiuw  the  "  Little  hatlier  "  ii  bej^imiin.;  to  russi.in- 
izc  the  Finns  tiiore  than  he  has  heretofore  done.  He  jias  carried 
his  armies  and  his  rule  into  the  Cauc.isus  and  the  Transciuca- 
sus  ;  but  that  rule  is  precisel\-  the  same  as  that  meted  out  to 
Mo-.cow  or  the  retjion  of  the  Ural  ;  and  the  Russians  as  individ- 
uals, treat  the  conquered  j)eople  just  as  tlicy  treat  each  other  in 
the  province  of  St.  I'etersbur^r.  (ieijr^ians  and  Armenians  are 
generals  in  the  army  and  won  L;real  honors  in  the  late  .Asiatic 
wars.  The  <,'overnor-^'enerars  plioloL;rapli  liant;s  in  slu)W-windows 
in  full  Geort^ian  costume.  Russian  officers  are  driving;  ,md  ])rome- 
nadini;  with  (ieor^ian  l.idies,  and  one  sees  Russians  and  natives 
eatiiiL;  and  drinkin;^  with  each  other  in  the  restaurants  and  caf(5s 
as  friends  and  equals.  Georgian  officers  ami  ^entleujen  driv<-  and 
promenade  with  and  take  to  the  theatre  Russian  ladies.  All  the 
laborers  ami  dro^k)'  drivers  .it  Tiflis  aie  natives,  aii<l  those  bijoiid 
are  Tartars.  The\'  meet  Furojiians  a>  men,  and  look'  tluin  fear- 
lessly in  the  eye  as  men.  I  saw  Tart.u'  drivers  stoutly  m.iintain- 
iii'^  their  ri;^lils  in  disputes  as  to  fares  or  cli.iri;es  not  nnly  with 
Russians,  l)ut  with  some  who  wore  ejiaidets  ;  and  if  .t  Russian 
shoulil  strike  one  of  tiiem  he  would  i;et  blow  for  blow.  1  saw  no 
evidence  of  servilitv  -no  crint;int^  of  manner  anion;,;  the  T.utars 
and  Uokharians  (u'  I'rrsi.ins  on  tl.e  ('  isjiian.  1  hey  were  as  manly 
and  as  indepeiukiit  in  their  bearin;^'  towards  Russi.ms,  both  civili- 
ans anil  officers,  as  are  the  Tartars  on  the  \'olL;a,and  these  latter  are 
as  brave  and  bold-lookini;  as  if  tluy  owned  the  land  now,  as  they 
once  did. 

Tartars  proinen.ule  on  the  es])l,inades  and  listen  to  the  music  as 
if  the  show  belonged  to  them,  and  Hnkhuians  and  I'ersi.ms  on  the 
Caspian  are  treated  by  the  Russians  in  no  wa)'  (aitwardly  <liffer- 
eiit  from  that   accorded  to  tlio->e  who  beloiv^  tn  the  ciiii<iuerin^ 


race. 


Tl 


le   Kussians 


fr.a 


ermze  with  the  natives  as  tlmroULMi 


ly 


<IS 


their  difference  of  reliijion  will  p  rniit,  .iiul  ;iie  ino-.ques  in  cities 
on  the  \'o!<;.i  and  in  the  C.uuasus  are  .is  safe  fmm  individual 
insult  as  are  the  Christian  churches.    H'.il  one  sees  everywhere  the 


evidences  of  a  \  ieldim:  on 


tht 


lart 


native  customs  and  civili/.a- 


ti<in  to  that  of  the  coiKjuerinij  cl.'.sses,  Russians  do  v..<\.  '^o  into 
the  con<|uered  countries  to  sqiieeze  them  for  a  time  ami  then  to 
nturn  to  the  north  to  '-niox-  their  -'ains.    They  ro  to  sta\',  to  live, 


f-- 


\. 


\ 


i 

1; 


^ 


f 


■'^( 


la 

1 1  / 12 


\ 


I 


\:    ■' 


\    ■) 


i' 


'  V 


»   ■ 


M 


'f 


»•  <il') 


M: 


'* 


I  ill 


tv 


488 


^  JiAC/i  WITH  THE  SUN. 


to  be  a  part  of  the  country — I  doubt  not  to  ^cX,  if  they  can,  the 
larfjcst  lialf  of  the  cheese,  but  to  eat  it  on  tlie  spot.  It  is  the 
policy  of  the  government  to  russianize  its  contiuered  countries, 
and  tile  Russians  as  individuals  do  their  share  l)y  niakint:j  lionies 
amonij  ti>e  people  and  by  inin^din<x  with  them.  The  railroad  cars 
of  all  classes  are  open  to  the  natives,  and  if  they  riile  in  the  third 
it  is  because  it  fits  their  purse,  and  tiiey  find  economical  Russians 
in  the  seat  ne.xt  them.  .As  far  as  I  could  see,  and  from  wli.it 
1  could  ham,  the  veil  which  hides  the  Moliammetlan  woman  is 
bcini,'  to  some  extent  dropped,  and  tliey  are  be^'innint;  to  niin^'le 
with  their  rulers  and  are  becomin;^  of  them.  Tiie  Russian  is  a 
man  of  stronij  fibre  and  ver\'  conservative,  but  he  cares  but  little 
'or  class  and  knows  nothincij  like  c.iste.  In  this  he  differs  wiilely 
from  tlte  Kn;j;iis!i.  These  inveij^h  violently  at,'ainst  the  caste  dis- 
tinctions of  the  Iiulians,  and  yet  the  native  of  India  sees  as  much 
caste  exclusiveni  amoni^  the  whites  as  anion",'  his  own  people, 
but  of  a  different  nature.  1  lindoo  caste  is  reli^Mous  ;  Knj^'lish  caste 
is  ])urely  social,  and  tiie  lines  are  dr.iwn  with  ritiiculous  rit^idity. 
A  Hindoo  reijards  him-;elf  as  relij^iou-^ly  defiled  if  he  eats  or 
drink''  fnun  a  cup  usetl  by  a  Christian  or  by  one  of  his  own  people 
of  a  lower  ^rade.  An  I".ni;lisliman  holds  himself  severel)'  aloof  in 
social  intercoiu'se  from  his  inferior  I'.uropeaii,  and  the  women  are 
as  strict  observers  of  precedence  as  at  home  they  are  at  a  court 
drawin;j;-room,  and  a  native  less  than  a  n.iwab  is  utterly  tabooed. 
The  Russians  are  savages  in  battle,  but  when  the  battle  is 
ended  the  n.itive  kindness  of  their  dis|)osition  at  once  shows 
itself.  I'rince  iJondoukoff-Kors.dcoff  ^Mve  nu:  several  examples  of 
this.  As,  for  instance,  when  in  their  fierce  fr^hts  in  the  nv^ion  of 
Kars  and  Khiwi,  after  a  town  had  been  j^iven  np  to  sack  .and 
pi!I.i;,;e,  he  h.ul  oftiii  '-I'en  Russian  soKi,  ts,  with  hands  blood)' 
from  the  fiL;ht,  fee(lin<j  hungry  natives,  coildiinij  children  in  theii 
arms,  .iiid  nur-^inj^  sick  woinen.  "  We  ilo  not  want  any  fii;ht  with 
I"',n;,;land  in  India,"  said  he,  "  but  if  we  should  <;et  into  one  she 
w  ill  find  our  Asiatic  subjects  lovinj^  us,  while  her  own  ''.ife  her." 
Ami  the  old,  battle-worn  soldier's  eyes  burned  when  he  spoke  of 
the  abuse  of  ivussia  by  the  r",nL;lish  jires-;.  "  .\h,  nion  prince,"  I 
rei)li<'d,  "  \\h\-  c.mno^  I'av.dand  and  Russi.i  ^o  side  by  siile  .across 
Asi.i  and  j;ive  to  her  the  true  li^ht  of  western  civilization? '" 
"  We  will  if  I'.n^dand  be  wise,"  he  rejoined.  "We  ilo  not  want 
Indi.i,  but  we  w.uit  to  c.irr)'  Russian  trade  into  the  country,  ihit 
if  w.u"  shall  e\er  conu-  we  will  Ik-  wilconied  b)'  mail)'  a  stroni; 
handed  Ilimloo."  I  li.ue  been  .almost  am.ized  to  find  amoiuj  the 
informeil  men  in  Russia  the  belief  that  h'.njd.uid's  weakmvss  in 
Indi.i  sprinL;s  from  tlu'  causes  1  h.i\'e  t'liumer.ited  heretof  )ri',  and 
which  I  wrote  in  m\'  note-book  months  .ij^ni.  I  fornud  these 
opinions  when  my  prejudices  .ii^ain^t  Ru^si.i  were  so  j^re.it  th.it  I 
thouijht  every  step  she  made  tt)ward  central  Asia  was  an  injury  to 
libertv. 


i-'f 


icy  can,  the 
,     It  is  the 
1  countries, 
kintj  homes 
ailio.ul  cars 
in  tiic  thirtl 
al  Russians 
from   what 
)  woman  is 
^  to  min^'le 
Aissian   is  ;i 
-s  but  little 
ffuTs  widely 
le  taste  liis- 
es  as  muclj 
wn  |)C()ple, 
ij^'hsli  caste 
us  rif^idity. 
ho   eats  or 
own  people 
ily  .ildof  in 
woini'ii  are 
:  al  a  court 
y  tabooed, 
e   battle    is 
)nce   shows 
xaniples  of 
e  re^Mon  of 
1  sack  aiKJ 
ids  bloody 
til  in  their 
■  litdit  with 
ito  one  she 
'•ate  her." 
e   spoke  of 

I  prince,"  I 
side  across 
iiizalion  ?  ' 

not  want 
iitry.  Hut 
y  a  stroni; 
anion_i(  the 
cakiiess  in 
tof  ue,  and 
iiicd  these 
real  (hat  I 

II  injury  to 


' 


JiUSS/A'S  METHODS  BETTER  THAN  ENGLANIYS. 


4'^9 


These  opinions  are  now  ^^reatly  modified.  Russian  dominion 
beyond  the  Caspian  will  be  an  ailvancement  in  civilization,  and 
her  kind  of  rule  is  tiic  best  suited  to,  if  not  the  only  one  for  u  Inch 
the  Asiatic  is  or  can  be  for  a  lon^'  perioil  fitted.  She  can  rule  her 
conquered  people  by  autoer.itic  methods  and  do  no  violence  to 
her  own  traditions,  and  without  contravi  niiiL;  her  own  notions  of 
f,'overnmeiit.  She  is  an  autocracy,  and  her  people.  ;is  a  rule,  not 
only  ac(iuii'sce  in,  but  are  satisfied  witii  lur  methods.  Tiny  say 
they  could  not  be  so  well  j^'overned  in  any  other  manner.  They 
admit  that  they  are  fe.irfully  bunleneil  by  ;i  colossal  .irnn-,  but 
say  they  are  forced  by  their  luirope.m  neighbors  to  kee])  it  up  in 
its  full  numerical  strent,'th,  ami  to  ^ive  it  every  modern  improve- 
ment. 

I^n^laiul  stands  upon  a  different  i)lalform.  I  lers  is  a  rule  of 
the  people  founded  upon  liberty.  The  very  .\  H  C  of  her  consti- 
tution inculcates  an  uncoiKuier.ible  love  of  lil)erty.  She  eannot 
violate  safely  the  spirit  of  her  constitution,  nor  vary  materi.illy 
from  the  true  chart,  without  ruiinin;.,'  the  risk  of  wrecking'  her  ship 
of  state.  She  has  a  ilifficult  problem  to  solve  in  p;overnin^  the 
heteroi^eneous  masses  of  her  Indi.m  dominions.  As  a  govern- 
ment she  is  doin;^'  well.  Hut  the  people— the  individuals— she 
sends  to  them  are,  I  fear,  doin;^^  much  to  undo  the  work  the  gov- 
ernment has  done  and  is  doinj^'.  I  am  laiLilaiul's  well  wisher  in 
jier  Indian  work  but  I  c;'nnol  shut  \\\\  eyes. 

A  beautiful  sail  tlirou;.;h  a  thous.md  or  more  islands,  now  in  broad 
lakes  and  then  in  narrow  salt  straits,  brought  us  to  Abo,  once 
Finlaiid's  cajiital.  This  is  a  ]ncturesfpie  town,  coverim,'  an  im- 
mense territor\-  with  its  28,000  i)eop!e  ;  widely  scattereil  houses, 
so  built  to  avoid  confla^natioiis,  with  whieh  it  has  been  several 
times  afilicti'd  ;  a  castle  of  nearly  600  years  ;it;o,  and  a  fine  old 
catheilr.d,  .uid  a  p.uk  prettily  climbiufj  a  hi;4h  eminence  with 
noble  outlooks.  Here  we  receiveil  the  (jrand  Duke  Michael  of 
Kussia,  the  I'rincess  of  Haileii,  and  his  son  and  her  (l,iu.^hter. 
goiiiLj  to  visit  their  kinswoman,  the  Crown  I'rincess  of  .Sweden. 
We  also  hail  abo.ird  tlu;  {'"inni^li  author,  I'rofessor  Toriielius, 
whom  I  fouiKl  a  very  urbane  and  ])leasant  man.  lie  is  well  on 
in  years.  His  sweet  }'oun^f  daughter  was  a  model  of  filial  at- 
tention and  affection. 


! 


,v 


,<«] 


I  i 


'Jilt 


\ 


\ 


III 


i 


.  vl 


CHAPTER  XLV. 


I! 


1 1.  i 


/  :, 


I  •  I 


i^t  ^1  ■/ 


;) 


I 


■   1  1  /    '/ 

A    1 

&  M 

iki 

ff'  11 

ll 

DPf  (|'  H 

1p 

.L   n.  ri 
r 

!■■' 


SAM.    TO   SWKni'N   -PRTNCF.I.Y    KKI.I.OW-VOYAr.rRS— STOCKHOLM— 
Tin;   Ss'KDLS-llOMKI.lKK  I.ANDSCAl'KS. 

Stockholm,  August  i6,  i88S. 

The  little  steamer  Touca  had  licr  s.ilooii  prcttil)'  ilcckcd  with 
flowers  ,iiul  was  vei)'  ^.ly  willi  biintiiij;  when  slie  sU-aiiud  out  of 
the  Aurajoki,  on  which  Abo  is  situateil,  ami  our  cabins  were 
fragrant  from  liui^e  and  reall)'  ele!.,'aiU  bouciuits,  tied  with  libbons 
of  ^reat  size  and  of  ricli  texture  in  llie  colors  of  Russia  and  of 
Haclen,  presented  to  our  princely  passcn{jers  bv  l.ulies  of  the  city. 
Tlure  was  a  lar;4e  conctunsi'  of  people  on  the  (|uay,  with  some 
soldiers  and  a  band  of  music;  also  a  sini;ini;  band  from  a  Russian 
batt.ilion  stationetl  at  Abo.  Wy  the  way,  the  Russian  regiments, 
as  f.ir  as  we  h.ive  seen,  all  liave  a  sort  of  f;lee  clubs,  which  sinj^ 
rt)llickin;4  son^s  very  tlnely,  the  refrains  ami  choruses  bein^  very 
like  those  of  (lerman  and  our  own  stutlent  song's.  Tlu-y  sin^j 
marching,  when  the  whole  re;.;imenl  seems  to  join  in.  One  even- 
inj;  in  southern  Russi.i  our  Ir.iin  w.is  passinj,^  throuLjh  a  wood, 
near  which  was  an  enc.impmeiit,  an<l  a  ni,L;hl  praclici'  was  ^'oin^' 
on.  The  shouts  .uid  chorus  of  the  ni.tuliin;^  nun  wen-  very 
nui.sic.d  and  spiritetl,  coming;  throu^di  the  white  birchen  forest. 
And  now  1  will  mention  aiiotlur  thini;.  which  is  vi'ry  wonderful 
in  all  of  these  nortiiern  countries  -that  i->,  the  perft-clion  to  wiiich 
hot-house  cultiv.itioii  has  bi'en  brou;.;ht.  One  sees  in  windows  in 
northern  Russia,  l'"inland,  and  .Swideii,  m»t  only  ver\'  beautiful 
exotics,  but  of  the  costly  kinds  with  us,  and  oftentimes  in  the 
houses  of  people  of  very  moder.ite  means,  thus  showin;.^  lluin  to 
be  of  small  cost.  1  lure  are  nuri-  flowers  to  l)e  siiii  in  the  win- 
dows of  a  moderately  si/.eil  town  of  Russia  than  one  would  see  in 
all  the  uimlowsof  the  United  .St  itcs.  In  .Stockholm  tlu'  fuchsi.i 
trees  in  the  |)arterres  in  park  i  .iml  scpiares  are  of  very  KoLje  si/e 
and  perfect  form  and  in  many  varieties.  I'.very where  we  h.ive 
been  for  the  |)ast  two  months  we  h,i\e  freipuntl)'  p.uised  to 
.ulmire  in  private  wimlows  beautiful  pl.iiits,  such  as  oiu'  sees  with 
us  only  at  residences  of  the  very  rich,  or  about  the  {f.irders  and 
.shojjs  of  professional  florists.  This  arises  from  the  fact  that  the 
season  for  outdoor  culture  is  so  siu)rt  that  the  greater  attention 
is  paid  to  house  culture;  ami   liousts  here  are    kej)!   throu^dumt 


3CK1IOLM— 


'  10,  1 888. 

ccktil  with 
1)1(1  out  of 
.ihiiis  were 

itli  ribbons 
-si.i  and  of 

of  the  city. 

with  sonic 
1  .1  Riissi.in 

ic^Mmcnts, 
which  sin;^' 

Ix'ini;  \t  ry 

'I'iuy   siii}^ 

One  cvcn- 
h   .1  wood, 

was  ^'oiiij; 

were  very 
lull    forest. 

wonderfnl 
m  to  wiiiili 
windows  in 
/  beautiful 
inus  in  the 
n;^  tlieni  to 
in  the  win- 
onld  see  in 
the  fuchsia 
■  lar;^M'  size 
e   we   have 

paused  to 
e  sees  with 
irdtTs  and 
:t  that  the 
r  attention 

hroiiyhout 


r///?  GRAND  DUKE  MICIlAliL 


49t 


the  lonp  winter  .-It  an  even  temperature.  "  The  heat  of  my  house," 
said  a  tjeiitlenian  to-ilay,  "  is  that  of  {gentle  sprinj.;  for  weeks  and 
weeks,  althout^h  without,  the  snow  is  frozen  solid'  five  feet  deep 
and  the  thennonieter  is  at  —,"  naming'  a  de^'ree  of  Celsius  a^rce- 
inj;  with  20  l-'ahrenheit  below  zero.  Tlurnionieters  are  in  every 
house,  antl  are  so  coniinon,  pernianenlly  fi.\ed  on  the  outsiik-  of 
tlic  windows,  that  they  seem  to  have  been  in  the  very  estimates 
of  the  builders.  W.ills  are  of  i^neat  thickness  when  of  brick  or 
stone,  and  once  hcateil  hold  their  heat  evenly;  ,ind  Will  chinked 
lo|.>houscs  arc  the  warmest  of  all.     Wooil  is  a  iion  comluctor. 

Ihit  to  return.     The  cabins  of  the  'I'oriua  also  had  a  number  of 
haiulsome  ^M-owin<,'  plants,  perhaps  somewhat  more  than  u^ual,  for 
our  liandsonie    l''innisli  captain  was  (|uite   proud  of   his  imperial 
fjucsts.     This,  lie  said,  was  the  first  time  in  the  iiistory  of   Russia 
when  one  of  the  imperial  family  had  jjone  out  of  the  country  in  a 
commercial  ship.      Ileretofore'  pri\ate   y.ichts  or  armed  ship's  had 
l)een  used  for  such  ])urpose.     While  talking'  with  the  captain,  the 
youn^  duke  joined  us  and  leariuil  of  our  visit  to  Caucasus,  where 
lie  had  been  born  and  had  lived  u])  to  within  a  few  years.     After- 
ward   he  came   to  me    and    informed  nu-    that  his  fatlur  would 
be  pleased  to  meet  me.     I   found  the  (irand    Duke  Michael  an 
ai^reeable    }.n;ntleman,    fully  six    feet    tall,    very   hamUome,    of 
splendiil  physicpie,  soldierly  in  his  bearing,  somewhat  bhd'f  and 
[ilain-spokeii,  and    >  el  evidiMitly  kindly,      lie  reminded  me   much 
of  I'rince  Uomloukolf,  (iovernor-tjeneral  of  Cauc.isus,  of  whom  he 
is  a  f^reat   friend.      I  le  was  liimself  fjovernor-^'eneral  of  tli..t   vast 
province  for   ei;^htee-n  years,  diirini;  which    tinu;  and    under  his 
comm.ind  such   vast   striiles  wvw  made   by  Russia  in  Asia,      lie 
captured    Khiva  and  other  important  jirovinces,  and,  I  think,  has 
sonu-  ])owder  stains  on   his  face,  perlia|)s  f^ained  in  battle.     His 
bearin;^  and    apiK-.irance    are    sonuuhat    severe,    but    he  was  so 
unaffectedly   plain  in  his  convers.ition  with  me,  that   I  <piile  h)st 
slight  of  the  fact  that  he  was  the  brother  of  the  late,  and  uncle  to 
the  present,  czar,     lie  informed  me  that  he  was  Tresident  of  the 
ImperialC^ouncil,  and  '^^ave  me  some  information  as  to  that  power- 
ful arm  of   the  ^^overnment.     All  measures  proposed  by  ministers 
have  to  be  passed  upon  l)y  it  before  jjresentation  to  the  emperor. 
At  present   it  consists  of  about    50  members — appointed  by  the 
emperor — but  is  r.irely  full  at  its  meetiiv^s. 

lie  and  the  two  princesses  seemed  much  pleased  that  my  talis- 
manic  "Ya  Amerikanets"  had  ]>roved  an  "  ojien  sesame  "  to  so 
many  places  of  interest,  and  remarked  that  Russia  and  .America 
were  old  frienils,  and  then  informed  me  that  the  daut;Iiter  of  our 
minister  was  Ixjtrothed  to  Haron .   .Somelhin;;  the  princess 


said  was  rather  an  interroi,Mtion  as  to  whether  I  was  not  pleased 
by  the  news.  I  frankly  acknowledi^id  that,  on  ;^HMieral  jirinciples, 
I  was  opposed  to  these  alliances  ;  that  we  Americans  were  all 
sovereigns,  and  held  ourselves  as  the  ecpials  of  the  [;reatest  by 


I 


fi 


'fi: 

411 
! 


\ 


^ 


I  ■ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


.^'A^. 


5 

\ 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


1^  IM    12.5 


IVU 

us 


2.2 


1^ 

mm 


•UUt- 


v] 


/] 


7 


.^^  ^^? 

%  .^V 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)872-4503 


S 


9 


^ 


S 


493 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


'Xo\ 


>: :' 


','■']  ,'■  I 


■■i 


birth  of  all  lands,  conceding  superiority  only  to  those  who  had 
won  it  by  individual  merit;  but  that  our  fair  daughters,  when  in- 
termarried with  European  nobility,  invariably,  so  far  as  I  had 
heard,  forgot  their  American  characteristics  and  became  intensely 
imbued  with  exclusiveness,  and  that,  moreover,  it  was  only  our 
gilded  belles  who  rang  themselves  into  titled  houses.  The  young 
princess — who,  by  the  way,  has  a  jolly  German  face,  and  would,  I 
think,  hugely  enjoy  the  freedom  of  an  American  girl — smiled 
audibly  at  this.  The  prince  informed  mc  that  this  match,  he 
thought,  was  one  of  love,  and  the  Princess  of  Baden  added  that 
the  young  lady  was  a  nice  girl,  and  had  been  very  kindly  received, 
just  before  leaving  for  America,  by  the  empress.  The  son  of  the 
duke  is  only  19,  over  six  feet  three — the  tallest  but  one  of  the 
imperial  family.  I  was  mistaken  in  thinking  the  emperor  very 
fat.  One  of  the  party  said  :  "  It  is  simple  meat  and  muscle,  not 
fat.  He  is  a  very  powerful  man  physically."  Something  being 
said  of  our  splendid  voyage  about  the  world,  I  told  the  princess, 
who  asked  if  it  did  not  fatigue  mc,  that  I  was  a  very  young  man. 
"Yes,"  she  said,  "a  man  is  as  old  as  he  feels;  a  woman,  as  she 
looks."  "True,  your  highness.  I  am  33  and  the  rise.  You  are 
just  18."  The  bright  and  handsome  mother  of  the  hamlsome 
grown  daughter  was  not  displeased  by  the  compliment,  and  the 
grand  duke  rejoined  :  "And  I  am  exactly  25  without  the  rise." 
At  another  time,  when  we  were  steaming  up  the  magnificent 
approach  to  Sweden's  capital,  I  said  :  "  You,  of  course,  have  been 
here  before?"  "Yes,  50  years  ago,"  adding  with  a  laugh,  "  25 
years  before  I  was  born."  For  the  benefit  of  our  young  men  I 
will  state  that  the  captain  informed  Willie  that  this  straight,  well 
preserved  old  soldier  threw  off  the  soft  mattress  from  his  bunk 
and  slept  without  a  pillow. 

The  sail  from  Helsingfors  to  Stockholm  is  a  very  pretty  one ; 
always,  except  for  two  or  three  hours  at  night,  through  islands  by 
the  hundreds,  if  not  by  the  thousands — some  bald-headed, 
rounded,  granite  masses  of  rock,  smoothly  washed  throughout 
countless  ages,  without  a  shrub  or  a  lichen,  others  green  and  well 
wooded  ;  some  small,  others  of  considerable  siz.e,  with  small  farms 
and  fishing  villages;  now  we  would  be  in  little  lakes  of  100  or  so, 
and  then  of  several  thousand  acres  in  size-,  then  threading  through 
narrow  creeks  athwart  which  the  steamer  could  not  lie  lengthwise. 
Sometimes  we  would  see  a  windmill  whirling  upon  a  high  ground, 
and  then  we  would  catch  the  masts  of  a  small  ship  riding  in  a 
creek  beyond  an  island,  but  looking  as  if  the  bare  poles  were  a 
part  of  the  wooded  land.  The  large  groups  of  the  Aland  Isles 
belong  to  Finland.  Then,  crossing  an  open  sea,  we  entered  the 
Swedish  islands,  which  are  fairly  without  number  and  continuous 
to  the  coast.  The  Baltic  last  winter,  as  it  frequently  is,  was 
frozen  solidly  over,  and  sleds  passed  from  coast  to  coast.  Quite 
a  number  of  English  ships  were  abandoned  in  the  ice.     Hardy 


:l    y 


THE  APPROACH  TO  STOCKHOLM. 


49a 


;  who  had 
s,  when  iii- 
r  as  I  Iiad 
e  intensely 
s  only  our 
riie  young 
d  would,  I 
irl — smiled 
match,  he 
idded  that 
y  received, 
son  of  the 
one  of  the 
peror  very 
nuscle,  not 
ling  being 
3  princess, 
Dung  man. 
nan,  as  she 
You  are 
handsome 
It,  and  the 
the  rise." 
lagnificcnt 
have  been 
aiigh.  "  25 
ing  men  I 
aight,  well 
I  his  bunk 

retty  one ; 
islands  by 
id-headed, 
liroughout 
n  and  well 
mall  farms 
100  or  so, 
ig through 
engthwise. 
^Ii  ground, 
riding  in  a 
lies  were  a 
land  Isles 
ntered  the 
:ontinuous 
:ly  is,  was 
St.  Quite 
2.     Hardy 


Finns,  wandering  on  the  frozen  sea,  took  possession  of  them  and 
gained  60,000  kronas  as  salvage  when  the  winter  ended. 

The  approach  to  Stockholm  from  the  east  is  simply  magnificent 
—through  creeks  and  little  bays,  winding  and  bending;  through 
wooded  lands  and  islands,  50  to  150  feet  high,  with  villas  and 
fortresses,  pretty  boat-houses  and  ornamental  landings,  summer 
resorts  and  permanent  houses,  among  ships  and  fishing-smacks, 
steamers  and  steam  barges,  all  at  this  time  showing  moVe  or  less 
bunting,  and  bright  witli  banners  in  honor  of  the  Russian  duke, 
whose  coming  was  evidently  expected.  People  waved  handker- 
chiefs from  landings  and  from  water  cottages.  This  latter,  how- 
ever, seems  a  Finnish  and  Swedish  custom.  On  the  lakes  and  in 
the  country  where  our  steamboats  and  trains  would  pass,  women 
and  children  almost  invariably  waved  their  handkerchiefs  to 
passing  boats  and  cars.  At  first  I  supposed  it  was  for  friends 
aboard,  but  was  told  it  is  universal  and  a  way  of  showing  their 
general  good-fellowship  ;  but  to  our  steamer  the  attention  was  far 
more  than  usual  and  very  demonstrative.  The  grand  duke  came 
to  the  front  and  was  evidently  pleased  by  the  reception.  He  had 
informed  me  before  that  the  Crown  Princess  of  Sweden  was  his 
niece,  he  being  married  to  the  sister  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Baden, 
and  that  the  Princess  of  Baden  now  aboard  was  the  niece  of  the 
Baden  ruler  ;  that  they  were  paying  his  niece  a  visit,  and  then  he 
was  going  to  the  Transcaucasus  to  spend  a  couple  of  months  on 
some  large  possessions  he  has  there,  and  where  four  of  his  children 
were  born. 

At  the  beautiful  granite  quay,  quite  in  the  city  of  Stockholm, 
we  found  a  large  concourse  of  people  gathered.  An  open  space, 
250  by  50  feet,  was  surrounded  by  soldiers  or  policemen,  and  in 
the  centre  stood  the  crown  prince  and  princess  awaiting  their 
guests.  I  told  the  duke  of  my  mistake  in  looking  at  the  Sultan 
through  my  opera  glasses  and  a'^ked  if  it  would  be  a  breach  of  eti- 
quette here.  He  laughed  and  said  he  would  use  them  if  he  were 
in  my  place,  and  I  did.  The  crown  prince  is  a  tall,  slight  young 
man,  with  full,  dark,  but  not  heavy  beard,  a  rather  pleasant  face, 
but  by  no  means  a  strong  one.  He  rather  stood  back,  while  his 
wife  stepped  forward  to  greet  and  talk  to  her  kinswomen  on  the 
deck  of  the  steamer  while  it  was  being  tied  to.  She  is  tall, 
elegantly  formed,  with  a  very  pretty — perhaps  beautiful — face, 
the  strength,  however,  rather  detracting  from  its  beauty.  She  was 
exquisitely  clad  in  a  close-fitting  overdress,  showing  admirably  her 
fine  form.  I  never  saw  a  more  graceful  figure,  and  the  face  was 
full  of  animation — indeed  of  sweetness — while  she  inquired  as  to 
the  voyage.  The  prince  himself  would  be  called  by  our  boys 
rather  la-di-da.  If  the  next  generation  of  Swedish  kings  be 
strong  men,  they  will  inherit  the  strength  from  their  handsome 
Baden  mother.  When  the  gang-plank  was  thrown  out  for 
the    royal    party    to    come    aboard    the  sailors   were   laying  a 


If" 


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494 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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carpet  for  them  to  walk  upon.  The  prince,  however,  im- 
mediately walked  with  the  princess  aboard,  motioning  to 
the  sailors  to  leave  off  the  carpet ;  and  when  he  entered  his 
carriage  with  the  duke  he  walked  to  the  outer  side  and  opened  the 
door  himself  before  the  flunkey  could  get  to  it.  The  crown 
princess  rode  away  in  a  splendid  carriage  with  the  Princess  of 
Baden  and  her  daughter.  The  prince  followed  in  another  with  the 
grand  duke  and  his  son,  the  two  elder  guests  taking  the  right-hand 
seats.  There  was  no  cl  eering  whatever,  but  a  silent  and  very 
respectful  reception.  I  am  told  this  is  considered  here  the 
proper  etiquette  when  the  royal  family  appear  in  a  private 
manner,  and  that  even  on  public  occasions  any  hurrah  is  very 
feeble. 

The  pride  of  the  Swede  in  his  capital  city  is  certainly  deserved. 
Every  visitor  says  it  is  one  of  the  handsomest  cities  in  Europe. 
I  think  it  is  decidedly  the  most  beautiful.  Indeed,  it  would  be 
hard  to  say  what  more  it  requires.  It  may  be  said  to  sit  upon 
islands,  for  even  the  portions  which  are  a  part  of  the  main-land 
are  so  nearly  surrounded  by  water  that  they  seem  insulated.  The 
sea  comes  up  to  it  through  a  mass  of  islands  almost  touching  the 
promontories  sent  down  by  the  main.  The  channels  through 
these,  though  of  great  depth  generally,  are  very  narrow,  the  main 
one,  capable  of  admitting  an  armed  ship,  being  less  than  loo  feet, 
wide.  These  islands  and  headlands  lift  50  to  nearly  200  feet,  no- 
where leaving  any  plain  or  flat  surface.  The  old  town  was  upon 
three  or  four  islands,  but  now  the  great  bulk  of  the  city  is  on  the 
promontories  of  the  main-land  ;  but  these  are  so  irregular  in 
shape  and  so  nearly  surrounded  by  water  that  one  has  to  make 
long  detours  to  reach  points  desired,  or  to  take  boat  for  a  near 
cut.  We  saw  fire-wagons  tearing  at  night  across  a  square  at  a 
break-neck  pace ;  the  young  men  with  me  followed  them  to 
see  the  blaze.  I  stood  still  on  a  bridge  and  soon  saw  the  illumi- 
nation in  the  very  direction  the  wagons  had  come  from,  and  not 
far  off.  They  had  a  detour  of  a  mile  or  more  to  make,  and  my 
young  companions  had  a  long  run.  What  is  called  the  ring-line 
of  street  railway  makes  many  zigzag  bends  in  and  out  and  over 
bridges  to  get  around  the  town.  Water  permeates  the  city  in 
every  direction.  Here  in  channels  lOO  feet  wide,  there  widening 
into  a  broad  stream  200  yards  across  ;  here  in  little  creeks  running 
up  into  the  granite  hills,  there  in  rounded  little  bays — water  clear 
and  transparent,  but  deliciously  green  and  cool-looking.  The 
streams  are  crossed  by  bridges,  some  of  them  very  elegant  struc- 
tures, and  plying  on  them  in  every  direction,  across,  and  up  and 
down,  and  diagonally,  are  the  prettiest  of  little  steam  barges, 
some  holding  scarcely  a  dozen  people,  others  50  or  more,  running 
to  and  fro,  in  and  out,  like  water-bugs  on  woodland  fountains,  and 
carrying  passengers  at  eight  tenths  of  a  cent  and  up  to  six  cents, 
according  to  the  distance  run.     These  creeks,  streams,  and  bays 


U"  y  ' 


iwevcr,  im- 
)tioning  to 
entered  his 
1  opened  the 
The  crown 
Princess  of 
her  with  the 
;  right-hand 
it  and  very 
I    here    the 

1  a  private 
rah   is  very 

ly  deserved. 

in  Europe. 

!t  would  be 

to  sit  upon 

2  main-land 
ilatcd.  The 
ouching  the 
els  through 
w,  the  main 
an  loo  feet, 
;oo  feet,  no- 
'n  was  upon 
ty  is  on  the 
irregular  in 
as  to  make 

for  a  near 
square  at  a 
:d  them  to 
/  the  illumi- 
)m,  and  not 
kc,  and  my 
he  ring-line 
ut  and  over 
the  city  in 
re  widening 
eks  running 
-water  clear 
king.  The 
;:gant  struc- 
and  up  and 
."am  barges, 
ore,  running 
untains,  and 
to  six  cents, 
IS,  and  bays 


A   VIEW  OF  STOCKHOLM. 


495 


are  walled  in  by  solidly  built  granite  quays  in  massive  5.mooth 
masonry,  against  which  lie  the  small  steamboats  plying  the  lake, 
and  large  steamers  from  the  sea,  and  are  filled  with  pure  water, 
coming  down  in  green  flood  and  rapid  current  from  Lake  Malaren, 
which  drains  a  large  country,  into  which  it  pushes  in  many-armed 
and  irregular  forms  over  loo  miles.  The  outflowing  channels  are 
too  rapid  and  shallow  for  the  craft  whicli  ply  the  lake.  To 
remedy  this, one  of  the  narrow  branches  is  locked  so  as  to  lift  the 
larger  lake-going  vessels  up  from  the  sea  level.  The  sea  can  be 
reached  directly,  or  by  going  up  the  lake  and  toward  the  interior 
for  many  miles,  where  a  deep  canal  joins  one  of  the  arms  with  a 
ragged  fiord,  which  leaves  the  salt  water  a  half  degree  south  of 
the  city  and  penetrates  deep  into  the  country. 

Water  is,  perhaps,  Stockholm's  most  attractive  feature,  and 
permeates  it  in  so  many  ways  that  it  is  called  by  some  the  Venice 
of  tne  North  ;  but  added  to  this  are  the  solidly  built  houses, 
climbing  some  of  the  hills  upon  narrow,  zigzag  streets  in  con- 
fused, picturesque  mass.  One  height  is  reached  by  a  lofty  street 
elevator,"  lifting  in  airy,  open  ironwork  150  to  2C0  feet  high, 
with  a  light  iron  bridge  reaching  far  over  housetops  on  slender 
columns,  resting  like  scaffolding  against  the  sky.  In  other 
localities  arc  elegant  streets  bending  about  in  comfortable  width, 
or  in  stretches  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  with  parkways  nicely 
planted  in  shrubs  and  flowers,  and  all  perfectly  paved  and  lined 
with  noble  buildings  generally  four  stories  high  and  in  good 
arch'tectural  style  ;  and  then  there  are  squares  with  fine  statues 
and  flanked  by  public  buildings  of  handsome  proportions.  The 
city  possesses  a  splendid  park  of  i,coo  or  more  acres  surrounded 
by  water  and  beautifully  hilly,  and  many  small  parks,  gardens, 
and  squares,  scattered  about  the  town,  prettilj'  laid  out  with 
monuments  and  fountains  in  bronze,  and  beautifully  planted  in 
trees  and  shrubs  clothed  in  rich  green.  In  some  of  these  gardens 
arc  elegant  cafds,  brilliantly  lighted  at  night,  where  excellent 
bands  play  until  the  witching  hour  of  midnight,  and  gay  people  sit 
or  stand  about  and  flirt.  15y  the  way,  flirtation  is  very  common, 
and,  I  am  sorry  to  add,  statistics  show  it  to  be  not  of  the  most 
harmless  kind. 

I  was  in  Stockholm  in  1875,  and  was  so  charmed  with  it  that  I 
advised  some  of  its  citizens  to  have  a  glass  case  built  over  it  to 
preserve  it  exactly.  I  am  glad  my  advice  was  not  followed,  for 
the  city  has  grown  to  over  210,000,  an.  aas  been  greatly  im- 
proved ;  and  some  of  the  newer  streets  have  been  laid  out  with 
handsomely  parked  esplanades  and  built  up  with  houses  sur- 
passed by  those  in  few  capitals.  The  royal  palace  is  a  huge  and 
not  bad-looking  quadrangle,  with  fine  state  apartments,  but  in  no 
way  differing  enough  from  the  conventional  palace  to  deserve  a 
description.  Outside  of  Russia  a  traveller  can  see  the  interior  of 
one  regal  palace  and  know  them  all.     Those  of  the  czars  are  sut 


If 

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liJ'^ 

496 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


generis,  and  each  worth  an  examination.  The  royal  museum  has 
some  very  fine  works  of  art,  some  of  the  statues  and  paintings 
being  good.  There  are  some,  however,  hardly  fit  for  a  royal  collec- 
tion. I  made  a  funny  blunder  in  the  museum.  I  saw  a  good 
many  really  fine  pa.ntings  marked  "  Okant."  I  reached  the  con- 
clusion that  Mr.  Okant  was  a  Swedish  artist  of  some  moric  and  of 
great  industry,  liut  finally  seeing  he  was  the  painter  of  religious 
and  historic  subjects,  of  humorous  and  solemn  moods,  of  figures, 
and  of  landscapes,  it  suddenly  dawned  on  my  brain  that  "Okant  " 
meant  "  unknown."  My  mistake  reminded  me  of  the  hone;:ty  of 
the  Swedish  ciiaracter.  They  acknowledge  ignorance  of  the 
artists  of  some  fine  pieces,  which  in  most  countries  would  have 
been  ascribed  to  well  known  masters  whom  they  best  fitted,  and 
thereby  had  their  value  enhanced. 

The  Swedes  do  not  strike  me  as  being  a  very  cheerful  or  par- 
ticularly bright-tempered  people,  nor  yet  are  they  solemn.  They 
seem  rather  phlegmatic  and  even  in  their  temperament.  They 
are  generally  well  dressed  and  are  exceedingly  neat  in  garb  and 
in  their  liousehold  surroundings.  We  spent  some  hours  in  the 
"  Deer  Garden,"  the  great  park  of  the  city,  where  the  masses  were 
spending  the  Sunday  afternoon  and  evening.  We  saw  lovers 
walking,  crowds  at  games,  several  groups  dancing,  and  many 
pic-nicking.  All  seemed  quiet  ;  there  was  no  sort  of  boisterous- 
ness  and  but  little  light-hearted  gayety  and  fun.  Even  the  groups 
of  dancers  seemed  rather  to  be  getting  through  with  the  figures 
than  to  be  circling  in  real  joy.  This  was  the  case  even  when  the 
figures  required  forfeits.  The  kissing  was  given  wiliiout  bolster- 
ous  jollity,  and  lacked  that  wild  joy  when  happy  souls  dance  on 
two  pairs  of  meeting  lips.  In  cafes  and  restaurants  there  is  quiet 
— none  of  that  loud-toned  abandon  which  marks  the  Teuton's 
gatiierings.  The  Germans,  when  thoroughly  enjoying  themselves, 
talk  and  vociferate  loudly,  as  if  wholly  forgetful  of  eve.;'  thing 
but  the  jolly,  present  moment,  and  of  everybody  else. 

By  the  way,  I  \yas  particularly  struck  with  the  quiet,  low  tones 
in  which  Russians  converse.  We  saw  them  in  all  sorts  of  crowds, 
and  rarely  did  we  ever  hear  voices  raised  to  a  high  pitch. 
This  was  the  case  even  when  we  knew  they  were  feeling  the  effect 
of  exhilaration.  The  Finns  are  much  like  them  in  this  respect, 
and  the  Swedes  so  to  a  considerable  extent.  So  far  the  Swedes 
appear  to  me  to  be  pretty  well  off.  We  have  seen  no  beggars 
anywhere. 

There  is  considerable  complaint  that  America  is  drawing  out  of 
the  land  its  best  bone  and  sinew,  and  I  am  told  that  there  is  in  high 
quarters  a  disposition  to  stop  emigration,  if  they  knew  how  to 
bring  it  about.  The  same  feeling  exists  in  Finland.  High  taxes 
are  driving  its  people  away  very  rapidly.  In  both  countries,  just 
now,  emigration  is  said  to  nearly  countc.  alance  natural  increase 
of  population.  And  in  both  there  is  much  waste  land  which  with 
low  taxes  could  come  into  productiveness. 


Tjuseum  has 
id  paintings 
royal  collec- 
saw  a  good 
icd  tlie  con- 
mcrt:  and  of 
of  religious 
i,  of  figures, 
af'Okant" 
2  honer.ty  of 
mce  of  the 
would  have 
t  fitted,  and 

crful  or  par- 
snin.  They 
lent.  They 
in  garb  and 
lours  in  the 
masses  were 

saw   lovers 

and  many 
f  boisterous- 
n  the  groups 

the  figures 
en  when  the 
lout  boister- 
Is  dance  on 
here  is  quiet 
le  Teutt)n's 

themselves, 
cvc._>'   thing 


t,  low  tones 
s  of  crowds, 
high  pitch, 
ig  the  effect 
his  respect, 
the  Swedes 
no  beggars 

wing  out  of 
.•re  is  in  high 

lew  how  to 
High  taxes 

jntries,  just 
ral  increase 
which  with 


T//B  PEOPLE  OF  STOCKHOLM. 


497 


I  spent  a  part  of  a  morning  attending  the  congress  of  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association.  I  paid  n.y  crown  for  ad- 
mission into  the  gallery.  It  was  presided  over  by  a  very  promi- 
nent German,  and  had  several  distinguished  delegates.  Speeches 
were  made  in  English,  German,  and  French— the  substance  of 
each  being  then  given  in  languages  other  than  the  one  used  by 
the  speaker.  I  understood  them  well  enough  to  consider  them 
quite  good.  The  ablest  was  read  by  tlie  president,  but,  as  all 
read  addresses  do,  elicited  much  less  applause  than  feebler  efforts 
extempore.  I  was  struck  by  the  fact  that  a  large  number  of  the 
young  men  were  gray-haired,  and  many  had  but  little  hair  to  tell 
its  color,  and  a  very  few  were  really  young.  The  Bible  was 
extolled  by  the  speakers  as  the  surest  guide  to  its  own  truths. 
I  regretted  I  could  not  remain  another  day  to  join  the  associa- 
tion on  an  excursion  to  which  I  was  invited  by  our  John  V. 
Farwell,  a  delegate.  Many  of  the  delegates  arc  learned  men  and 
deserve  a  successful^  meeting.  My  newly  made  acquaintance. 
Prof.  Torpelius,  the  Finnish  author,  was  in  attendance. 

Willie  says  there  are  a  great  many  prett)-  girls  in  Stockholm,  but 
that  their  shoes  look  as  if  made  for  very  large  girls — the  fault,  I 
suppose,  of  the  shoemakers,  and  not  of  the  feet  of  the  pretty 
blondes.  Some  of  the  peasant  costumes  now  worn  in  the  city  by 
attendants  in  the  museum  and  by  girls  who  run  little  row-boats 
are  very  bright  and  pretty.  Our  newly  promoted  minister,  Mr. 
Magee,  was  very  polite  to  us,  as  he  is  to  all  Americans. 

I  got  rid  in  .Stockholm  of  one  of  my  unpleasant  reminders  of 
an  unpleasant  past.  In  1884  I  stumped  the  State  of  Illinois  with 
terrific  cnc.gy  to  make  a  president  of  the  United  States.  I  was 
on  my  feet  over  ten  ten-hour  days  in  nine  weeks,  and  was 
whipped  from  one  end  of  the  State  to  the  other.  I  broke  my 
voice  and  injured  my  health,  taking  so  many  medicaments  for  my 
throat  that  some  of  my  gums  receded  from  my  teeth.  Up  near 
the  Arctic  circle  we  had  to  eat  jerked  reindeer.  Some  of  the  .salt 
meat  got  into  a  cavity  in  the  gum,  about  a  wisdom  tooth,  causing 
me  much  pain  for  ten  days.  I  left  my  reminder  in  the  iron  grip 
of  a  dentist  in  the  Swedish  capital.  I  wop.der  if  I  had  saved 
that  "  bone  "  four  and  a  quarter  years  ago  if  it  would  not  have 
been  a  wiser  thing.  As  the  wistlom  tooth  had  then  added  little 
or  nothing  to  my  stock  of  wistlom,  I  now  the  more  willingly  let 
it  go. 

I  finish  this  at  Christiania,  whither  the  run  by  rail  from  Stock- 
'  holm  was  a  charming  one.  It  is  generally  made  by  tourists  by 
the  "  express,"  making  the  distance  nearly  all  by  night.  We,  as 
we  generally  do,  travelled  only  by  daj',  and  were  amply  repaid  for 
the  extra  time.  There  was  no  grand  scenery,  but  a  great  deal 
■  which  was  very  pretty ;  and  we  saw  much  of  Swedish  farming 
and  something  of  the  customs  of  the  country  people.  Now  we 
were  in  lands  thickly  wooded  with  pines  and  birch.  The  straight 
branchless  pines  would  spin  and  waltz  around  each  other  as  the 


VM 


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M  ■, 


,n  i 


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-  1 

1       ' 

i"i  ,1    I:' 

J          » 

•  '  « 

"is  '       t    ■  ^'H  ■■( 

I.Ji 

498 


y^  v¥/^C'j5'  H'JTH  the  sun. 


train  rushed  through  them,  or  deeply  green  firs  would  make  a 
dense  shade.  A  break  would  now  occur  in  the  woods,  revealing 
a  glimpse  of  a  quiet  lake,  or  wc  would  skirt  one  of  the  pretty 
placid  sheets,  when  red  farm-houses  and  waving  fields  were  mir- 
rowed  on  its  silvery  surface.  1  hen  a  broad,  rolling  plain  would 
be  spread  out  before  us,  with  a  hundred  farms  and  well-fenced 
fields,  waving  in  freshly  green  oats  and  unbearded  wheat,  nr 
covered  thickly  with  tall  shocks  of  newly  cut  rye,  like  tents  in  a 
pigmy  camping-ground.  Men  and  women  were  cutting  tall  timo- 
thy and  red-topped  clover,  or  throwing  it  into  rounded  domes, 
and  the  whole  air  was  redolent  of  new-mown  hay.  Cattle  grazed 
meekly  in  meadows  from  which  the  grass  had  been  mown,  and 
looked  sleek  and  contented 

Many  of  the  landscapes  were  exquisitely  homelike,  cheerful, 
and  abounding  in  and  running  over  with  pcacefulncss.  I  know  of 
no  American  home  scenery  so  pretty,  and  but  few  in  England  to 
surpass  some  of  the  spots  we  passed  over.  Lakes  were  never 
long  absent,  and  some  of  them  beautiful.  The  farm-houses  were 
all  painted  in  red  and  many  of  the  barns  and  out-houses  ;  not  a 
flashy,  dazzling  red,  but  of  a  soft  and  almost  neutral  tint.  I  sus- 
pect the  tone  has  been  borrowed  from  the  lichen  tint  which 
covers  so  many  of  the  granite  boulders  in  the  shaded  pine  lands 
of  this  far  north.  I  have  seen  some  so  red  that  it  was  difficult  to 
believe  them  not  painted  with  the  brush.  Oftentimes,  too,  the 
natural  surface  of  stones  built  into  fences  along  the  road  looks  as 
if  a  painter  had  cleaned  his  brush  upon  their  old,  water-worn 
faces.  I  spoke  before  of  the  gray  moss  covering  huge  granite 
boulders,  but  I  forgot  to  mention  the  beautiful  lace-pattern  variety 
or  lichen  which  often  mantles  many  of  those  scattered  over  the 
damp,  wooded  lands  up  toward  the  arctic  circle.  No  elaborate 
embroidered  handkerchief  could  be  more  regularly  and  delicately 
worked  by  woman's  nimble  fingers  than  some  of  these  nature's 
woven  fabrics  upon  the  cold,  gray  monsters  dropped  by  the 
glaciers  of  a  far-off  past.  They  are  generally  circular,  from  one  to 
two  feet  in  diameter,  and  have,  when  full  grown,  three  rows  of 
embroidery,  each  about  an  inch  and  a  half  deep.  They  look  as  if 
fairies  had  spread  their  choicest  lace  treasures  upon  the  stones  to 
dry.  They  are  seen  all  over  this  northern  land,  but  we  saw  the 
most  perfect  about  the  67th  parallel. 


1 


uld  make  a 
Is,  revealing 
f  the  pretty 
Is  were  mir- 
plain  would 

well-fenced 
i  wheat,  ir 
ce  tents  in  a 
ng  tall  timo- 
ided  domes, 
lattle  grazed 

mown,  and 

ke,  cheerful, 
i.  I  know  of 
England  to 
were  never 
-houses  were 
)uses  ;  not  a 
tint.  I  sus- 
1  tint  which 
1  pine  lands 
is  difficult  to 
nes,  too,  the 
oad  looks  as 
,  water-worn 
lugc  granite 
ittcrn  variety 
;rcd  over  the 
No  elaborate 
nd  delicately 
hese  nature's 
pped  by  the 
■,  from  one  to 
iree  rows  of 
ley  look  as  if 
the  stones  to 
t  we  saw  the 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

NORW.W-MAGNIFICF.NT   SCEXERY-TRUSTFUL  PEOn  F-I'l  EAS 

l.VG  SIMI'LICITV-l'KETTY  LOd  IIOIJSES-FARMINU  IN 

NORWAY— GLACIERS  AND   WATERFALLS. 

Christiania,  September  8,  t888. 

I  ONCE  heard  a  Norwegian  and  a  Swede  in  jocular  dispute, 
which  became  a  little  bitter  when  the  latter  declared  he  "  never 
could  understand  what  the  Lord  made  Norway  for;  that  it  was 
nothing  but  a  mass  of  rocks."  The  Norseman  replied  that  it  was 
made  to  grow  men  in,  as  Sweden  had  found  more  than  once  to 
her  cost.  The  retort  was  patriotic  and  justified  by  the  sturdy 
valor  of  the  Norseman  since  he  first  appeared  among  men  as 
the  twin  brother  of  the  northern  blast,  and  was  supposed  to  live 
in  ice  grottos  about  the  pole.  But  as  a  nursery  of  men,  Norway 
has  hardly  been  sufficiently  prolific  to  justify  the  fearful  throes 
borne  by  Dame  Nature  when  she  gave  it  birth.  Every  acre  came 
from  the  very  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  every  rood  was  torn  from 
its  heart  in  volcanic  agony.  Three  weeks  spent  in  rapidly  run- 
ning over  its  mountains  and  through  its  valleys;  looking  up  upon 
its  snow  fields  and  mighty  glaciers ;  looking  down  into  its  dark 
gorges  and  fathomless  fiords;  skimming  along  its  green  waters 
and  under  its  towering  precipices  and  beetling  crags;  listening  to 
the  wild  songs  of  its  countless  water-falls  and  the  roar  of  its  cata- 
racts ;  breathing  the  sweet  breath  of  the  pines  on  the  mountain 
side  and  braced  by  the  cool,  health-giving  atmosphere  everywhere 
found, — all  convinces  me  that  "  Norge  "  might  have  been,  if  it  was 
not,  intended  for  a  continental  or  world's  park,  where  Nature  can 
be  communed  with  when  in  her  grandest  moods;  where  a  man 
can  come  close  up  to  her,  can  be  cuddled  to  her  heart,  and  be 
nursed  upon  her  very  lap ;  where  the  noblest  features  of  the 
world  are  heaped  together  within  comparatively  small  compass, 
and  can  be  looked  upon  without  danger,  and  visited  with  simple, 
invigorating  labor. 

NatuiC  practised  her  hand  in  many  latitudes  and  in  most  dis- 
tant regions  before  she  laid  Norway  out.  In  exalted  mood  she 
lifted  Everest  and  Kunchinjinga  to  the  skies,  but  threw  about 
them  such  mighty  foot-hills,  such  vast  buttresses  of  ice,  that 
their  crowned  brows  can  only  be  gazed  at  from  afar,  and  any 
attempt  at  intimacy  is  repelled  with  awful  doom.     Elbruz  and 

499 


iu  i''  n 


# 

If 

\  ■' 

■I. 

.-•;! 

.!■; 


Iff: 
■  •; ;    i 


111 


m 

i'  *i 

.   1! 


Is 


500 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


I 


\\i      ' 


% 


"  i 


I 'I 


Kazbek  arc  thrown  with  silvered  duiiies  upon  a  background  of 
purest,  cerulean  hue  ;  around  them  are  clustered  monarchs  cast 
in  majestic  mould,  with  valleys  and  slopes  between,  where  fairies 
delight  to  dwell  and  flowers  are  ever  in  bloom  ;  but  to  reach  tiiesc 
sceptred  kings  vast  plains  must  be  traversed  beneath  the  scorch- 
ing sun.  "  Old  Mt.  lilanc  "  was  reared  in  fearful  majesty,  and 
•'  The  Maiden  "  pierces  the  clouds  with  her  tresses  of  all  un- 
touched white,  but  to  revel  in  their  glories  one  must  climb  to 
alpine  heights,  and  many  a  votary  of  the  one  sleeps  in  unrecord- 
ing  ice,  and  lovers  of  the  other  are  wrapped  in  winding  slieets  of 
snow.  Having  tried  her  hand  in  the  i)lastic  art,  with  fingers  all 
deft  and  with  practised  eye,  old  Nature  wandered  from  southern 
climes  toward  the  upper  i)ole  and  lifted  from  the  sea  the  north- 
land,  an  epitome  of  all  grandeur,  a  crystallized  photograph  of  all 
beauty,  a  fixed  reflection  of  all  charms— glorious  "  Norge  !  " 

Her  mountains  lift  not  by  the  tens  of  thousand  feet  through 
plains  and  hills  which  have  swallowed  up  half  of  their  vast  alti- 
tude, the  remainder  to  be  attained  only  by  the  most  daring  and 
hardy,  but  sjjringing  from  the  world's  great  level,  the  eternal 
ocean,  while  appearing  as  lofty  as  the  highest  to  the  beholder, 
they  may  be  reached  by  the  maiden's  tiny  feet  and  by  the  ol  1 
man's  faltering  step.  l-'ar  off  from  a  burning  sun,  the  accumu- 
lated snows  of  countless  ages  flow  in  glazier  currents,  measured 
not  by  acres,  but  b\'  the  lunulred  square  miles — glaciers,  compared 
with  which  the  Mer  de  Glace,  of  Chamouni,  is  as  a  fish-pond  by 
the  side  of  an  inland  sea.  The  great  Jostedals  Brae  covers  an 
area  of  500  square  miles,  and  sends  many  an  arm  nearly  down  to 
the  sea,  as  if  it  would  bathe  its  frozen  fingers  in  the  warm  stream 
sent  by  our  own  gulf  to  temper  the  winds  to  this  northern  clime. 

We  have  now  travelled  about  950  miles  in  this  wonderful  land 
— 530  of  them  by  posting  in  "  stolkjarre,"  "  kariol,"  and  carriage 
over  mountains  and  through  beautiful  narrow  valleys  ;  220  odd  on 
little  steamers  and  barges  over  crystal  lakes  and  wonderful  fiords, 
and  the  remainder  in  slow-running  railroad  trains.  We  have 
travelled  too  rapidly  for  simple  enjoyment.  That  is,  we  have 
taken  but  little  time  for  rest  and  have  not  halted  to  dream.  I 
have  wasted  so  much  of  my  life  heretofore  that  I  must,  like  the 
busy  bee,  lay  up  a  store  for  honeyed  dreams  in  my  soon-to-come 
old  age.  We  have  exercised  our  legs,  and  backs  too,  and  have 
kept  our  eyes  open  and  our  ears  unstuffed  with  cotton.  I  will 
now  attempt  to  give  soine  very  sage  conclusions  about  men  and 
things  here.  All  of  these  conclusions  I  shall  be  ready  to  change 
when  shown  they  are  wrong.  I  always  claimed  the  right  of 
changing  my  mind.  It  is  only  the  fool  who  boasts  that  he  never 
does.  Your  inconsistent  man  is  often  a  very  wise  man.  He 
learns  enough  to-day  to  know  that  he  was  wrong  yesterday. 

I  like  the  Norwegians.  All  travellers  here  declare  them  per- 
fectly honest.     I  certainly  have  not  seen  the  slightest  disposition 


•r  / 


...'III! 


ckground  of 
anarchs  cast 
vhcre  fairies 
1  reach  these 
1  the  scorch- 
najesty,  and 
:s  of  all  un- 
ust  climb  to 
in  unrecord- 
ng  sheets  of 
h  fingers  all 
MW  southern 
a  the  nortii- 
)graph  of  all 
orge!" 
'eet  through 
L:ir  vast  alti- 
:  daring  and 

the  eternal 
lie  beholder, 
1  by  the  ol  1 
the  accunui- 
ts,  measured 
rs,  compared 
fish-pond  by 
le  covers  an 
arly  down  to 
u'arm  stream 
rthern  clime, 
nderful  land 
and  carriage 

;  220  odd  on 

derful  fiords, 

We   have 

is,  we  have 
to  dream.  I 
uist,  like  the 
ioon-to-come 
oo,  and  have 
itton.  I  will 
)ut  men  and 
ly  to  change 
the  right  of 
hat  he  never 
e  man.  He 
iterday. 
re  them  per- 
;t  disposition 


TJJE  XORUT.G/AXS. 


901 


on  the  part  of  any  one  of  them  to  deceive  or  cheat,  and  if  trust- 


ously  inclined.  At  wayside  stations  curiosities— sometime";  of 
small  silverware— are  exposed  in  the  unattended  public  room 
where  any  one  could  easily  carry  them  off.  Cigars  are  in  open 
boxes  for  the  traveller  to  help  himself  from,  with  the  expectation 
that  he  will  honestly  account  for  any  he  has  taken.  Farm-houses 
are  left  open  when  the  whole  family  goes  off  to  the  mountain  to 
cut  hay,  and  in  some  unfrequented  localities  the  wayfarer  goes  in, 
builds  a  firL\  goes  to  the  store-room,  helps  himself  to  milk  and 
"  flat-broed,"  cooks,  and  eats  a  meal,  and  leaves  on  the  table 
money  enough  to  pay  for  what  he  has  used.  Frequently  a  post- 
boy (he  -s  sometimes  a  man  and  not  infrcquentlv  agirl  or  woman) 
has  taken  what  I  have  paid  for  his  dues,  putting  it  into  his  pocket 
without  counting.  He  always,  however,  sees  what  vou  give  him 
as  gratuity,  and  warmly  shakes  you  by  the  hand  when  he  says 
"tak  "  (thanks).  I  gave  a  servant  girl  too  much  for  our  dinner. 
She  seemed  much  amused,  when  she  corrected  my  error,  that  I 
.should  have  made  such  a  blunder.  At  wayside  stations  they 
charge  ridiculously  low  prices,  and  as  far  as  I  can  learn  make  no 
distinction  in  making  the  reckoning  to  foreigners  and  to  home 
people.  They  are  a  sturdy,  fine-looking  people,  and  arc  the  most 
thorough  democrats  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  They  have  abol- 
ished all  titles  and  nobility,  and  have  not  learned  to  worship 
wealth.  One  man  is  quite  as  good  as  another,  and  his  bearing 
shows  he  thinks  so.  He  takes  off  his  hat  when  he  meets  a 
traveller  on  the  roadside,  but  does  it  as  freely  to  the  coachman 
who  drives  as  to  the  rich  man  who  lolls  back  in  the  carriage.  He 
has  high  respect  for  his  pastor  and  for  the  patriarchal  head  of  a 
family.  He  is,  however,  frequently  a  dissenter,  and  shows  no 
disposition  to  pay  church  rates,  and  in  that  case  wastes  no  great 
amount  of  love  upon  the  pastor  who  is  placed  over  him  by  the 
government.  The  Lutheran  Church  is  the  established  one  of  the 
land,  and  the  livings  are  in  the  gift  of  the  authorities. 

They  are  a  good-natured  people  I  am  sure.  The  kitchen  is  the 
living  room  in  a  well-to-do  farm-house.  I  have  walked  into  these 
frequently,  and  generally  found  the  mother  putting  the  finishing 
touches  to  the  pot  when  preparing  a  meal ;  and  I  could  never  tell 
which  were  the  daughters  of  the  house  and  which  the  servants. 
By  the  way,  the  latter  are  not  ashamed  of  their  calling,  and  when 
I  asked  a  pretty  one  if  she  were  the  daughter,  she  said,  with  a 
smile :  *'  Oh,  nei,  I  am  a  servant."  Many  of  the  women  in  the 
mountains  and  upper  valley  are  very  comely — not  beauties,  but 
ruddy,  rosy,  plump,  and  healthy  specimens  of  femininity.  If  I 
should  write  verses  I  would  not  write  them  to  "  The  girl  with  the 


t 

'1  wil 


> 

If 


I 


1^ 


i 

Ik 


m 


'i 

ill 


A 


'  \ly 


>\ 


\'   t ! 


\<  u 


502 


A  RACK  fV/T/f  THE  SUN. 


i' 


•  I 


%/    ^  ii-Wi 


raven  locks,"  nor  to  "Tlic  flaxcMi-liaircd  maiden,"  nor  yet  to  "The 
rcd-luiired  i^nl,"  but  just  now  woidd  write  a  sonnet  to  "The  sweet 
^irl  of  the  tow  head." 

Tlie  women  do  tlieir  full  share  of  the  work  of  the  land,  but  we 
have  found  the  heavy  labor  is  done  by  the  men.  The  women 
reap  and  bind  t^rain  and  rake  and  mow  hay.  The  men.  however, 
wield  the  axe  and  the  sc)  Jie.  All  -^rass  is  cut,  however  li^ht,  and 
often  a  very  quick,  sharp  stroke  is  necessar)-  to  shave  it  ol^f.  For 
this  sort  of  jiay,  a  scythe  a  little  over  a  foot  loni^,  with  a  handle 
less  than  two  feet  in  len^rth,  is  usetl.  The  stroke  is  as  sharp  md 
quick  as  it  would  be  if  the  mower  were  taking  the  head  off  a 
snake.  We  have  seen  nowhere  the  double-action  scythe  used  in 
Finland.  There  a  lonij-hanilled  implement  is  wielded  first  to  the 
ri^ht  and  then  to  the  left,  with  a  rapidity  and  evenness  of  iction 
simply  marvellous.  I  do  not  think  the  Norwegians  gocj>l  ,  umers. 
They  plow  or  dig  their  fields  well  and  deep,  but  their  barley  and 
oat  fields  iiave  nearly  as  much  weeds  as  grain.  '1  l>ey  harvest  close 
to  the  ground,  so  as  to  save  every  weed  and  spear  of  grass. 
NotiiMig  which  grows  but  is  saved  for  hay,  and  the  cows  and 
slieep  eat  any  and  every  thing.  Kven  the  potato  vines  are  hung 
up  to  dry  for  fodder,  and  leaves  of  birch  and  elm  are  cured  and 
stacked  for  winter  use.  Horses  do  not  eat  leaves  unless  sorely 
pressed.  Grain  ripens  here  very  slowly,  and  is  often  cut  thoroughly 
green.  This  is  more  than  usually  the  case  this  year,  for  the  season 
is  nearly  three  weeks  later  than  ordinaril)-.  I  saw  barley  being 
harvested  in  the  mountains  perfectly  green  and  with  heads  not 
half  filled.  They  know  not  what  night  frost  may  come.  Parley 
up  in  Finland  matures  in  eight  or  nine  weeks  ;  here  it  frequently 
fails  to  do  so  in  four  months,  and  never  in  less  than  three. 

All  grain  and  hay  is  hung  up  to  dry  and  cure.  Each  valley  and 
locality  differs  somewhat  from  the  next  one  in  the  mode  adopted. 
This  shows  how  conservative  people  are— each  following  the 
example  of  his  forefathers.  There  is  something  pleasing  to  me  in 
this  respect  for  the  ideas  of  the  past — so  different  from  our  land, 
where  the  old  is  ever  discarded  and  the  new  taken  up.  I  have 
almost  learned  to  like  the  Chinese  forworshipping  their  ancestors. 
It  is  better  than  with  us,  where  Young  America  generally  thinks 
his  father  an  old  fossil.  In  the  Gudbransdal — valley  of  Gud- 
brand  there  are  old  homesteads  which  make  one  almost  feel  he  is 
being  carried  back  a  few  hundred  years  to  the  old  English  halls, 
without  the  pomp  of  baronial  power  and  mastership.  There  is 
the  old  tall  clock,  the  old  cupboard  in  the  corner,  old  tables  and 
other  old  traps  of  long  ago,  and  the  old  man  with  his  pipe  and  his 
children  and  laborers  about  the  great  kitchen  in  full  and  free 
equality.  Yet  the  old  man's  will  and  word  is  the  law  of  his  little 
realm  and  is  implicitly  obeyed. 

Real  estate  is  held  upon  a  singular  tenure.  A  man  may  dispose 
of  it  as  he  pleases,  but  the  next  in  succession  has  the  right  to 


I      i 


LIQUOR  TRAFFIC  IN  CITIFS. 


503 


^ct  to  "The 
"  TliL'  sweet 

:iiul,  but  we 
riie  women 
n.  liowevcr, 
;r  lifjht,  and 
it  off.  I'^or 
th  a  hatulle 
,s  sharp  iiicl 

head  off  a 
tlie  used    in 

first  to  the 
is  of  tction 
)ud  I  umers. 
"  barley  and 
larvcst  close 
ir  of  ^rass. 
e  cows  and 
es  arc  hun^ 
L'  cured  and 
mless  sorely 

thorou<^hly 
r  the  season 
/irley  beinij 
1  heads  not 
Tie.  Barley 
t  frequently 
iree. 

Ii  valley  and 
do  adopted, 
llowing  the 
ing  to  me  in 
im  our  land, 
up.  I  have 
ir  ancestors. 
;rally  thinks 
ley  of  Gud- 
ist  feel  he  is 
nglish  halls, 
).  There  is 
I  tables  and 
pipe  and  his 
nil  and  free 

of  his  little 

may  dispose 
the  right  to 


demand  to  be  the  purchaser,  even  from  tin-  veutlee  who  had  paid 
in  full,  and  he  has  several  years  within  wliicii  to  reach  liis  deter- 
mination, so  that  an  interloper  cannot  know  for  some  years 
whether  he  is  the  owner  or  not,  This  virtually  ])revents  free 
disposal,  and  the  next  in  succession  usually  feels  a  pride  in  holding 
to  the  old  farm.  To  enable  him  to  buy  out  his  mother  and  sisters 
he  goes  into  debt,  and  his  life  then  becomes  one  of  drutlgery  for 
the  benefit  of  the  mortgagee.  The  farmer  has  to  keep  up  the 
roads  a  ii.  r  his  land.  This  burthen  with  others  keeps  him  poor, 
and  many  ;.rL'k  relief  in  emigration.  If  I  be  not  misi.ikcn,  the 
number  leiiving  the  country,  both  here  and  in  Sweden,  is  more 
than  one  m  three  of  the  births.  This  very  much  annoys  the  govern- 
mcr*  aid  causes  it  to  discourage  emigration  as  much  as  possible. 
I  am  not  anxious  to  have  increased  enn'gration  to  our  land.  We 
are  filling  up  too  fast,  but  no  better  population  couKI  go  to  our 
shores  than  tlie  hardy  sons  of  Scandinavia. 

I  had,  until  coming  here,   been  of  the  impression  that  the  Nor- 
wegians were  hard  drinkers.     It  was  probably  so  once,  but  is  no 
longer  the  case.     I  have  seen  but  two  men  under  the  influence  of 
liquor ;  one    was   an    excursionist   on  a    railway,   the    other    an 
Englishman  on  a  steamer.     The  people  ascribe  the  improvement 
to   two  things — first,    the  prohibition  against    selling  any  liquor 
from  five  o'clock    Saturday  afternoon    to  nine    o'clock    Monday 
morning,  and  to  the  peculiar  regulation  of  dram  shops  in  towns 
and  cities.     The  traffic  in  Christiania  is  under   the  control  of  a 
syndicate  of  gentlemen,  who  own  and  run  the  saloons,  reserving 
only  five  per  cent,  of  the   profits  for  themselves,  and  turning  the 
balance  over  to  the  city.     Coffee,  beer,  and  liquors  are  served  in 
one  room  and  .sandwiches  in  another.    No  man  is  permitted  to  sit 
down  in  the  establishment,  or  to  take  more  than   one  drink  of 
liquor  or  more  than  a  half-bottle  of  beer  at  a  single  visit.  The 
beer  of  the  land  is  good  and  cheap.     It  is  decidedly  the  beverage 
of  the  people,  and  so  far  as  my  observation  extends  in  the  cities 
and  in    the  country,    sobriety  is  a  national  characteristic.     Bad 
liquor  docs  more  harm  than  much  liquor.     If  the  prohibitionists 
would  only  preach  a  crusade  against  poison  as  a  beverage,  and 
would  make  the  wilful  manufacture  and  sale  of  adulterated  liquors 
and  beer  a  penitentiary  offence,  I  believe  I  would  agree  to  be  their 
candidate  for  the  presidency.    But  it  will  not  do  for  them  to  stop 
a  man  from  making  a  simon-pure  old  Bourbon  or  a  canoe  of  pure, 
cooling  lager.    That  is  a  blow  at  the  natural  liberties  of  free  men. 
Apropos  of  presidential  candidates,  I  hear  some  of  our  fellows 
arc  poking  fun  at  Ben  because  his  ancestor  was  drawn,  hung,  and 
quartered.     They  must  not  attack  the  family  record.    Remember 
John  Brown  was  hung,  but  his  soul  goes  marching  on.     Ben's 
family  are  very  good  people,  even  if  one  ancestor  was  a  crop-head  ; 
and  besides  the  lusty  old  fellow  helped  to  teach  the  Anointed  of 
the  Lord  that  royal  necks  and  sharp  steel  had  affinities. 


•1 

:| 

i  >  ir 


i;^ 


12 


1' 


\'n 


ir 

I1  ;,! 


m 


it 


V  ', 


U: 


,i; /■ 


A  'n 


H'  I 


I  /■*' 


f.    ^Hi 


^'/ 


I     .' 


504 


^  i¥^c^  /F/r/r  T/fn:  SUN. 


I  said  all  grain  and  grass  was  hung  up  to  dry.  This  is  some- 
times done  on  "  hcsjies,"  long  racks — posts  set  in  the  ground, 
about  six  feet  high,  with  five  or  six  tiers  of  slender  poles  or  lines 
stretching  between  them-^a  sort  of  five-deck  clothes-lines. 
These  are  sometimes  several  hundred  feet  long,  and  when  there 
are  several  rows  one  behind  another  and  well  filled,  look  at  a 
distance  like  compact  companies  of  infantry,  and  when  close  by 
and  covered  with  short,  green  grass  resemble  well-trimmcd  quick- 
set hedges.  The  more  general  plan,  however,  is  to  hang  the  grass 
or  grain  on  "corn-stals."  These  are  sticks,  eight  to  ten  feet  high, 
set  into  the  ground,  with  cross-pins  for  grass  but  smooth  for 
grain.  The  sheaves  of  grain  are  so  hung  upon  these  that  the 
heads  all  bend  toward  the  sunny  side,  and  look  not  unlike  a 
woman's  massive  tresses  flowing  over  her  shoulders  and  down  her 
back.  The  little  fields,  often  of  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  acre, 
scattered  over  the  mountain  slopes  or  in  larger  sizes  in  the 
smiling  valleys,  with  these  tall  "  corn-stals"  scattered  over  them, 
make  a  charming  landscape.  The  Norwegian  farmers  like  the 
Finns  and  the  Swedes,  do  not  live  in  villages  and  clustered 
hamlets,  but  each  on  his  individual  farm.  I  have  an  idea  that  this 
gives  a  feeling  of  independence  and  a  love  of  real  liberty.  People 
in  villages  become  more  or  less  dependent.  The  man  who  lives 
alone  grows  to  be  self-reliant  and  loves  elbow-room.  It  is  among 
such  that  civil  liberty  takes  deepest  root.  The  necessity  of 
housing  all  cattle  and  all  provender  during  the  long  winter 
months  makes  very  large  barns  or  many  buildings  necessary  to 
each  farmstead.  The  farmer  whose  whole  arable  land  does  not 
exceed  a  dozen  or  two  acres,  has  eight  or  ten—  rmd  often  more — 
buildings  closely  gathered  about  his  residence.  The  larger  farms 
do  not  increase  the  number  of  these  buildings  so  much  as  they 
increase  the  size  of  each.  In  some  of  the  mountain  districts, 
where  the  whole  tillable  lands  of  a  homestead  are  not  greater 
than  one  of  our  market  gardens,  the  out-houses  are  often  so  tiny 
that  one  could  almost  imagine  they  were  put  up  as  toys,  rather 
than  for  the  earnest  necessities  of  a  hard  life. 

In  some  of  the  richer  and  broader  valleys,  the  barns  are  com- 
modious structures  which  would  do  credit  to  a  Pennsylvania 
Dutch  farmer;  all  buildings  throughout  the  land  we  have  visited, 
except  in  Christiania,  are  of  logs,  generally  well  hewn,  sometimes 
sawed,  with  prettily  carried  up  corners,  and  fitting  closely  to- 
gether upon  a  calking  of  fine  moss,  and  with  lapping  eaves  ;uid 
projecting  gable  roofing;  very  pretentious  ones  are  boarded  over. 
The  roofs  in  the  south  and  about  the  fiords  are  of  red  bent  tiles; 
in  one  or  two  large  valleys,  of  huge  slabs  of  slate  ;  but  generally 
throughoiit  the  country,  of  six  or  eight  inches  of  turf  laid  upon 
an  under-roofing  of  birch  bark.  These  turf  roofs  in  this  rainy 
country  arc  green  with  emerald  moss  or  growing  grass,  and  many 
of  them  with  bushes  of  pine,  mountain  ash,  or  birch  growing  in 


I     i.ii 


Ills  is  some- 
he  ground, 
>les  or  lines 
lothes-lines. 
wiien  there 
,  look  at  a 
en  close  by 
imed  qiiick- 
ig  the  grass 
n  feet  high, 
smooth  for 
!se  that  the 
)t  unlike  a 
d  down  her 
of  an  acre, 
zes  in  the 
over  them, 
;rs  like  the 
-i  clustered 
lea  that  this 
•ty.  People 
1  who  lives 
It  is  among 
leccssity  of 
)ng  winter 
lecessary  to 
docs  not 
en  more — 
arger  farms 
ich  as  they 
n  districts, 
ot  greater 
ten  so  tiny 
oys,  rather 

is  are  com- 
nnsylvania 
Live  visited, 
sometimes 
closely  to- 

eaves  and 
irded  over. 

bent  tiles; 
generally 

laid  upon 

this  rainy 
,  and  many 
growing  in 


n 


m 


m 


.ill 


,  I' 


1  i'i 

Si" 


'I; 


ji 


u. 


t' , 


!■ ;  h 


k.i 


\[\  ..•i'.m 


LOG-HOUSES  AND  STABBURS  505 

healthy  thrift  from  four  to  even  15  feet  in  height,  so  that  a  man 
may  truly  be  said  to  live  under  his  own  roof-tree.     I  counted  18 
young  trees,  none  of  them  under  three  feet  in  height,  and  two  or 
three  over  ten  feet,  on  the  roof  of  a  house  30  x  20  feet.    The 
grass  on  some  of  the  houses  was  fit   for  the  scythe.     On  one  was 
a  large  patch  of  pansies,  and  many  were  white  with  wild  marga- 
rites.     Painted  houses,  except  about  large  towns,  are  the  excep- 
tion.    Many  receive,  when  first  put  up,  a  washing  of  tiiin  tar 
These  latter  left  untouched  are  soon  exquisitely  tinted  by  time 
and  the  weather,  and  wear  most  artistic  hues.     Nearlv  cvry 
cluster  of  farm  buildings  has  its  "  stabbur,"  or  store-house,  lifted 
upon  low  bevelled  posts,  up  which  mice  and  other  rodents  canrot 
climb.       In    some    localities   these    stabburs    are    the    farmer's 
pride,  and  are  exceedingly  pretty.     On  bevelled  posts  two   feet 
high  is  erected  a  pretty  log-house,  say  10  x  15,  and  10  feet  high. 
Upon  this  rises  a  second  story,  projecting  over  the  first  four  or 
five  feet  on  all   sides,  and   supported   by  brackets  more  or  less 
elaborately   carved.     The  upper  story  is  then  surmounted  by  a 
rocf  of  green  turf,  projecting  two  to  four  feet.     These  erections 
are  often  the  perfection  of  log  architecture,  and  are  set  forward 
before  the  residences  as  \.\\&  pihes  de  resistance  of  beauty.     They 
are  generally  painted  red,  or  charmingly  tinted  by  the  weather, 
and  when  they  are  the  accompaniments  of  a  dozen  or  more  ham- 
lets scattered  over  a  mountain  slope,  are  very  picturesque,  and 
look  not  unlike  little   Burmese  temples.     They  may  indeed  be 
called  the  temples  of  the  owners,  for  in  them  they  store  their 
cheese  and  butter,  their  groceries  and  barley  meal,  their  seeds  and 
little  wealth  of  threshed  grain.     I  saw  one  being  erected,  where 
the  old  carved  brackets,  of  an  older  one  rotted  and  pulled  down, 
were  being  built  into  the  new.     The  owner  said  the  brackets  were 
over  400  years  old,  and  had  adorned  the  store-houses  of  his  ances- 
tors.    The  people  take  great  pride  in  their  old  family  relics,  but 
are  too  democratic   to  erect   monuments  to  their  dead  heroes, 
wherein  they  differ  greatly  from  the  Swedes,  whose  capital  is 
filled   with  statues.     We  have  not  seen  a  half-dozen  monuments 
in  the  land.     All  but  two  of  these  were  to  the  engineers  who  built 
their  magnificent  roads.    The  exceptions  were  one  to  George  Sin- 
clair, a  Scotch  adventurer,  who  led  900  of  his  countrymen  into  the 
heart  of  the  country  to  assist  the  Swedes.     Three  hundred  peas- 
ants collected  over  a  pass  he  was  to  take,  and,  hurling  stones  and 
logs  down  upon  the  invaders,  destroyed  them  all.     A  huge  slab, 
with  the  commander's  name  and  the  date  of  his  death,  is  erected 
near  the  roadside.     I  asked  our  coachman  why  the  monument 
was   erected    to  him.     He   replied :  "  Because   he   was   killed." 
There  was  more  wisdom   in  the  answer  than  he  dreamed   of. 
Many  a  man  goes  down  to  fame  simply  because  he  was  killed. 
A  broken  arm  or  a  wooden  leg  takes  a  man  to  Congress  or  makes 
him  a  governor.     A  broken  head  and  death-stroke  makes  him  a 


i^J 


g 

1 

'Pi4 

B      f 

w 

\      t 

V 

! 

1 

.  ■ 

• 

f 

r 

V 

IT  ;   ' 

t 

>     i. 

\'\ 

f 

^l1 


m 


.1 


i 


i 


i  ! 


iiiy 


1 


I '   ■   51 


506 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


hi 


;  / 


f  :'t 


I'll 


« 


t    v\'\> 


I ' 


U-    ':■-. 


¥■'    W' 


hero  and  gives  him  a  monument.  How  many  thousands  have 
lost  their  bright  opportunity  by  not  being  killed  at  the  right 
time  !  The  other  exception  mentioned  was  the  statue  to  Chris- 
tian, the  founder  of  the  city,  in  Christiania. 

Norway  has  an  area  of  122,000  square  miles — considerably 
more  than  twice  as  many  as  the  State  of  Illinois — and  yet  she 
has  only  a  little  over  i,ooo  square  miles  of  arable,  cultivatable 
lands.  About  a  fifth  of  her  surface  is  covered  by  forests — not  of 
large  trees  such  as  we  consider  valuable  timber,  but  of  close- 
grained  pines,  large  enough  for  a  European  market,  and  of  birch 
and  other  trees.  The  remaining  land  surface  is  all  bald  rocky 
heights  and  upper  moorlands,  with  scanty  grass  for  pasture  and 
moss  for  reindeer,  and  snow-fields.  She  has  a  marvellous  amount 
of  running  water  well  stocked  with  fish,  and  almost  fathomless  fiords 
and  interland  channels  teeming  with  the  finny  tribes  of  the  deep. 
Her  forests  and  fisheries  have  constituted  1u,t  wealth  in  the  jKist. 
Her  magnificent  scenery  will  go  far  toward  feeding  her  population 
in  the  future.  A  few  years  ago  her  roads  were  only  rough  bridle- 
paths and  foot  trails.  Now  she  has  many  of  the  best  engineered 
and  gravelled  roads  in  the  world,  and  is  extending  them  to  every 
point  sought  by  the  tourist.  Thousands  of  foreigners  seek  health 
and  pleasure  here  every  summer.  And  each  summer  exceeds 
the  preceding  one  by  a  heavy  percentage.  So  many  Englishmen 
come  to  it  that  it  is  called  by  some  of  them  i  suburb  of  I^ondon, 
and  the  language  of  John  Bull  is  being  pick'  u  up  a  little  on  every 
mountain  side  and  in  every  valley,  and  al..  ;  the  great  fiords  of 
the  west  an  American  or  l^riton  rarely  need    .ui  interpreter. 

The  fjords  or  fiords  are  deep-sea  creeks  running  far  into  the 
mountains  inland  on  the  whole  coast,  from  the  far  north  down  to 
the  border  of  Sweden.  It  was  from  them  that  the  Vikings 
(creek  kings)  sallied  forth  to  prey  upon  the  richer  people  of  Eng- 
land and  the  south.  In  some  instances  these  creeks  are  over  loo 
miles  long,  from  a  half  mile  to  four  miles  broad,  and  as  deep  as 
the  outer  sea.  They  ramify  into  countless  arms,  jagged  and 
rough.  On  a  topographical  map  they  have  been  likened  to  the 
crooked  trunk  of  a  dead  tree,  with  the  larger  g  .  '.h1  branches 
projecting,  but  stripped  of  smaller  limbs.  These  brunches  end  in 
deep  narrow  valleys  extending  still  farther  inland,  in  which  are 
long  deep  lakes  on  higher  altitudes.  These  lakes  occupy  the 
beds  of  fiords,  which  extended  back  at  some  earlier  period,  before 
the  country  was  lifted  high  above  the  sea.  From  the  fiords  huge 
mountains  lift  their  precipitous  heights  1,000  to  5,000  feet  directly 
from  the  water,  with  here  and  there  steep  slopes,  on  which  little 
patches  of  cultivated  land  mingle  with  the  precipices.  Gener- 
ally, however,  the  mountains  rise  at  once  in  sheer  precipices  or  in 
mighty  rocks  with  little  terraces,  on  which  stunted  trees  find 
scanty  foothold,  or  ledges  green  with  light  grass. 

Behind  the  mountains  are  upper  plateaus,  covered  with  glaciers 
and  eternal  snows.     Over  their  crests  pour  water-falls,  so  far  up 


sands  have 
t  the  right 
e  to  Chris- 

onsidcrably 
nd  yet  she 
cultivatable 
;sts — not  of 
Lit  of  close- 
nd  of  birch 
bald  rocky 
pasture  and 
oils  amount 
imless  fiords 
)f  the  deep, 
in  the  jiast. 
•  population 
jugii  bridle- 
engineered 
?m  to  every 
seek  health 
icr  exceeds 
F.nglishmen 
of  London, 
tic  on  every 
;at  fiords  of 
)reter. 

ar  into  the 
"th  down  to 
he  Vikings 
pie  of  Eng- 
ire  over  lOO 
as  deep  as 
jagged  and 
Mied  to  the 
h1  branches 
iches  end  in 
1  which  are 
occupy  the 
riod,  before 
fiords  huge 
feet  directly 
which  little 
;es.  Gener- 
:ipices  or  in 
trees  find 

v'ith  glaciers 
Is,  so  far  up 


MOUNTAINS  AND  WATER- FALLS.  507 

that  they  arc  lost  in  mist,  to  be  again  gathered  into  tumbling 
streams  on  lower  rocky  projections,  or,  having  worn  the  rocky 
sides  down  into  more  gradual  descents,  they  hang  like  silvery 
bands,  1,000  and  2,000  feet  long,  on  the  frowning  mass  of  granite 
The  mountains  are  of  volcanic  origin,  and  stand  as  the)-  stood  when 
first  cooled  off  after  being  belched  forth  from  the  deep  bowels  of 
the  earth,  more  or  less  modified  by  the  action  of  water  and  frosts 
through  countless  ages.  They  lift  in  monster  domes,  rounded 
and  bald-headed,  smooth  and  nearly  solid,  and  could  thcj-  be  seen 
from  far-off  heights,  would  appear  as  vast  water-worn  bowlders, 
strewn  in  irregular  order  on  the  face  of  the  land.  In  one  respect 
they  make  this  one  of  the  oldest  parts  of  the  earth  ;  that  is,  'hey 
arc  all  composed  of  primary  rocks,  thrown  up  by  the  globe's 
eternal  fires,  and  bear  upon  themselves  no  secondary  formation. 
In  fact,  however,  I  suspect  this  is  one  of  the  newest  of  lands,  and 
is  the  creation  of  one  of  the  world's  latest  cataclysms.  This  is 
evidenced,  first,  by  the  absence  of  overlying  stratified  rocks  and 
clays,  and  yet  more  strikingly  by  the  sharp  lines  and  edges  of 
monster  fragmentary  rocks,  which  often  lie  in  Titanic  masses  as 
they  fell  down  from  the  heights  into  gorges  and  narrow  valleys, 
broken  from  their  moorings  by  too  rapid  cooling.  Vast  piles  of 
such  fragments  are  often  met  with,  piled  like  Ossa  upon  Pclion, 
into  lofty  hills.  These  great  fragments  are  seen  200  or  more  feet 
in  diameter,  with  edges  as  sharp  as  if  they  had  been  cleaved  but 
yesterday,  resting  upon  underlying  monsters,  with  crevices  as 
large  as  caves,  or  on  points  so  small  that  a  few  strokes  of  a  slender 
hammer  would  change  the  position  of  millions  of  tons.  There 
arc  no  pinnacles,  needles,  and  horns  to  be  seen  in  Norway  piercing 
the  skies,  as  in  the  Alps  or  in  our  own  Rockies,  but  the  tallest 
points  present  somewhat  rounded  crowns  on  the  background  of 
the  sky.  This  is  a  land  of  water,  of  rushing  torrents — torrents 
fed  by  upper  snows  and  frequent  rains,  tumbiing  down  mountain 
sides  anci  dashing  along  valleys  in  rapidly  falling  masses,  forming 
innumerable  cascades  over  frightful  precipices  and  countless 
water-falls  in  the  valleys.  Many  of  these  are  of  wondrous  beauty, 
but  so  constantly  recurring  that  tourists  become  surfeited  with 
their  wild  music  and  their  filmy  or  foaming  charms. 

The  tree  line'  ends  at  some  3,000  feet  altitude,  and  the  lofty 
heights  of  the  mountains  are  clothed  in  heather  or  are  naked  and 
smooth  in  rock.  Vast  snow-fields  lie  on  the  upper  plateaus,  some 
congealed  and  pressed  into  glacier  streams  ;  others  descending  in 
great  stripes  and  bands  in  deep,  rocky  furrows,  far  down  into  the 
valleys,  so  that  when  once  into  the  mountains,  white  robes  and 
scarfs  and  ribbons  are  always  visible  about  monster  shoulders. 
The  roads  are  splendidly  engineered,  built  of  disintegrated  granite 
sands,  or  soft  particles  of  somewhat  flaky  gneiss,  smooth  as  a 
garden  walk,  and  sloping  from  lofty  heights  in  loops,  bends  and 
zigzags,  along  frightful  precipices  in  charming  convolutions, 
along  which  the  mountain  ponies  trot  or  gallop  with  surefooted, 


II 


m 


V'  i 


I- 


^i 


\tl 


508 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


brave,  and  never-flagging  steadiness.  There  are  few  good-sized 
horses  in  Norway ;  nearly  all  of  the  small  ones  are  pony-built. 
They  are  fairly  well  formed,  almost  always  tawny  or  dun  more  or 
less  of  a  yellowish  or  whitish  tinge.  All  have  a  daii^  streak  of 
hair,  beginning  in  the  foretop,  running  through  the  middle  of  the 
mane,  along  the  spine,  and  into  the  tail.  Nearly  all  are  prettily 
roached  the  two  lighter  sides  of  the  mane  being  removed,  leaving 
a  black  or  dark  roach,  even  to  a  nearly  white  pony. 


V'r>;. 


(*  :'( 


U  'i^. 


V 


*    I 


i'  1 1  [, 


— ■— 


good-sized 
pony-built, 
lun  more  or 
k  streak  of 
iddleof  the 
are  prettily 
ved,  leaving 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

CHRISTIANIA-VIKING  SHIPS-THE  THELEMARKEN-TIIE   FIORDS 

-CLIMATE  OF  NORWAY-SPLENDID  ROADS-DELIGHTFUL 

TOURS-MOUNTAIN  DAIRIES. 

Steamer  C/in'siiania,  September,  15,  1888. 

Now,  having  given  a  general  survey  of  this  pleasin"-  country 
and  Its  holdings,  I  will  endeavor  to  draw  a  few  pictures  of  the 
particular  things  seen  and  done  in  our  rapid  tour  of  three  weeks 
We  commenced  our  inland  journeyings  at  Christiania,  goin<r  by 
rail  some  50  miles  southwestwardly  to  Kongsberg  ;  then  by 
posting  190  miles  in  little  spring  carts,  through  smiling  valleys 
and  over  bleak  snowy  mountain  heights  and  passes  to  Odde 
on  the  southernmost  arm  of  the  great '^Hardanger  Fiord;  thence 
through  thearmsof  Hardanger  on  a  little  steamer  and  posting  to 
the  southernmost  arm  of  the  Sogncr  Fiord,  which  carries  its  almost 
fathomless  salt  waters  a  hundred  and  odd  miles  into  tlie  interior 
mountains;  then  on  this  briny  inland  creek  to  one  of  its  northern 
landing-places;  and  by  post  and  over  the  crystal  lakes  on  row- 
boats  or  little  barges  to  the  great  Nord  Fiord  ;  and  again 
posting  to  the  Sondmore,  and  over  and  along  its  branches 
twisting  like  a  reptile  Mirough  mighty  pricipices  3,000  and  4,000 
feet  high  in  the  Geiranger  and  the  Slyngs  Fiords,  and  on- 
ward again  by  posting  to  the  beautiful  Molde  Fiord  and  the 
picturesque  town  of  Molde,— making  in  all  300  to  320  miles  from 
Odde.  By  posting  again  nearly  200  miles  through  the  deep 
gorges  and  frowning  heights  of  the  Romsdal,  and  over  the 
pass  and  through  the  beautiful  valley  of  Guldbrandsdal  to  Lille- 
hammer,  and  on  the  long  and  sweet  lake  of  Mioesen  ah-'ut  65 
miles,  and  finally  by  rail  42  miles  again  to  the  capital,  ana  nnish- 
ing  all  on  the  fine  steamer  Christiania  of  Copenhagen  out  of  the 
Christiania  Fiord,  on  which  I  am  now  writing. 

The  ride,  when  entering  Norway  by  rail  from  the  frontier  of 
Sweden,  is  spoken  of  by  the  guide-books  as  tame.  This  should 
be  so  understood  as  by  comparison  with  the  nobler  scenery 
ofTered  the  traveller  in  other  localities.  It  is  really  very  pretty ; 
low  mountains  clothed  in  pines  of  foliage  so  dark  that  they  seem 
almost  black ;  scattered  farms  with  clusters  of  houses  charmingly 
tinted  by  the  weather,  and  fields  green  in  light-colored  oats,  and 
well  mown  meadows,  and  little  fields  of  rye   mounted  on  tall, 


saj 


p  ft  (. 


} 


% 


f 

1^ 


m 


41 


\h 


I 


i:    N 


■k' 


'  1 1 

1    1^ 

1  ; 

t' 

f  J 

\ 

'.   ' 

IJ 


LVi 


I'J 


\*'\ 


510 


A  HACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


'■  M 


,,!'/" 


i'M 
111'  fir: 


'iSl 


closely  planted  "  corn-stals,"  and  patches  of  barley  now  beginning 
to  yellow.  Our  track  lay  along  a  broad,  flowing  stream,  with  here 
and  there  large  saw-mills,  surrounded  by  huge  piles  of  newly  cut 
boards  and  great  rafts  of  slender  logs,  with  several  pretty  villages 
and  towns  and  tasty  houses. 

We  found  Christiania  a  fine,  well-built  city  of  120,000  dwellers. 
Its  general  characteristic  is  that  of  substantial  solidity  without  any 
pretentions  to  great  elegance  or  beauty.  Some  of  the  public 
buildings  are  fine  and  the  palace  is  imposing.  The  king,  who 
was  in  the  city  when  wc  arrived,  or  rather  in  its  neighborhood, 
does  not  occupy  it,  and  rarely  even  the  /'ijoii  of  a  residence,  Oscar's 
Hall,  charmingly  situated  on  the  fiord  near  by.  He  was  sojourn- 
ing in  a  log-house  somewhere  near  by,  I  suppose  thereby  to  flat- 
ter the  democratic  tastes  of  his  Norse  subjects.  He  goes  about 
here  with  decided  simplicity.  These  people  have  no  great  rever- 
ence for  kings,  and  the  present  one's  movements  are  much  more 
unpretending  than  when  in  the  sister  kingdom.  The  union 
between  Norway  and  Sweden  is  almost  exclusively  through  the 
crown.  In  all  things  else  Norway  is  an  independent,  separate 
kingdom. 

The  museum  is  quite  good,  but  the  thing  most  attractive  to  us 
was  the  old  viking  ship.  This  is  a  keel  about  85  feet  long,  with 
a  pitched-roofed  log-cabin,  in  which  the  bones  of  the  old  robber 
king  were  fc  md.  It  was  discovered  buried  a  few  years  since  in  the 
sands,  where  it  had  lain  for  nearly  or  quite  a  thousand  j'cars.  A 
dead  king  was  buried  in  it  with  his  horses  and  cattle,  which  were 
killed  for  liim  to  feed  on  during  his  nethermost  pilgrimage.  The 
views  about  Christiania  are  fine,  and  the  suburban  residences  of 
its  better-to-do  people  very  pretty.  One  of  the  prettiest  is  the 
1 50-years-old  house  of  our  kind  consul,  Mr.  Gade.  It  has  pretty 
grounds  and  handsome  trees,  and  an  exquisite  garden.  His 
beautiful  American  wife  is,  however,  its  best  adornment.  With  a 
wealth  of  silvery  hair,  and  rosy  complexion,  and  the  softest  of 
dark  eyes,  she  shows  that  a  Maine  girl  lost  nothing  when  she  was 
transplanted  to  Norge  to  be  the  mother  of  two  nearly  grown 
children  now  finishing  their  education  at  Cambridge,  Mass.  He 
has  been  our  consul  for  nearly  eighteen  years  ;  delights  to  show  at- 
tention to  Americans,  and  exhibits  the  book  of  my  good  old  friend. 
Judge  Caton,  as  his  most  valued  treasure.  I  do  not  know  but  that 
he  values  the  kind  lines  written  on  the  fly-leaf  even  more  than  all 
of  its  valuable  printed  pages. 

The  run  by  rail  to  Kongsberg  is  fine,  through  deep  valleys,  high 
upon  mountain  slopes  overlooking  deep  gorges  and  sunny  valleys. 
on  which  haymaking  men  and  women  stopped  to  wave  their  hand- 
kerchiefs to  the  passing  train.  Every  one  gives  their  salute  to 
whirling  train  and  panting  steamer.  In  fact  I  have  reached  the 
conclusion  that  this  article  of  apparel  throughout  the  Northland 
is  rather  kept  white  for  this  purpose.     The  back  of  the  hand  is 


;,  I. 


i    I 


V  beginning 
n.with  here 
f  newly  cut 
;tty  villages 

00  dwellers, 
vithout  any 

the  public 
king,  who 
ighborhootl, 
nee,  Oscar's 
I'as  sojourn- 
reby  to  flat- 
goes  about 
great  rever- 
much  more 
The  union 
:hrough  the 
nt,  separate 

active  to  us 
:  long,  with 
:  old  robber 
since  in  the 

1  )'car.s.  A 
which  were 
nage.  The 
;sidenccs  of 
ttiest  is  the 
:  has  pretty 
irden.  His 
It.  With  a 
:  softest  of 
len  she  was 
arly  grown 
Mass.  He 
to  show  at- 

lold  friend, 
ow  but  that 
ore  than  all 

alleys,  high 
nny  valleys, 
their  hand- 
ir  salute  to 
cached  the 
:  Northland 
he  hand  is 


IJ 


im 


i'i 


. '! 


In':  il 


^i-Hm 


!■     ■' 


I ;  ". 


I  iV 


1'' ) 


H  ^- : 


£!l 


■'tis 


A  TRIP  THROUGH  THELEMARKEN.  5,, 

much  more  used  for  nose-wiping.  It  is  convenient,  always  lumdv 
can  be  cleaned  without  ironing,  and  saves  the  rag.  It  is  astonish 
ing  how  long  the  Finns,  Swedes,  and  Norse  men  and  women  cm 
wave  their  napkins  to  parting  friends.  It  makes  us  sometimes 
rather  sigh  when  embarking  that  no  one  ever  bids  us  good-bye 
We  have  had  no  one  to  see  us  off  since  we  left  Seattle.  We  go 
aboard  an  ocean  steamer  as  a  sort  of  every-day  affair  and  quit  a  land 
as  c  jolly  as  the  denizen  of  a  city  takes  a  horse-car.  We  have  grown 
utterly  cosmopolitan.  The  world  is  our  home  and  all  people  are 
our  brothers.  We  pass  from  one  land  to  another  as  nonchalantly 
as  most  people  turn  a  village  corner;  we  look  back  upon  the 
masses  we  leave  with  kindly  regard  and  sil-ontly  bid  them  a  long 
adieu.  We  then  look  forward  to  the  next  where  we  shall  meet 
with  generous  welcome.  The  world  is  everywhere  our  oyster ; 
with  courtesy  and  a  silver  knife  we  open  the  shell  on  every  strand 
and  cat  of  its  juicy  contents  with  heartful  thankfulness  to  the 
Giver  of  all  good  gifts ;  with  kindness  to  all  and  malice  to  none, 
with  forgetfulness  that  any  were  ever  our  harm-doers  ;  with  hopes 
that  all  will  be  our  well-wishers  we  think  of  the  far-off  land  where 
real  friends  have  stood  by  us  in  the  past,  with  longing  soon  to  be 
among  them  and  to  be  better  Americans  aiTd  truer  Chicagoans 
because  we  have  been  and  ever  will  be  citizens  of  the  whole 
world. 

The  Thelemarken  district  has  not  been  much  visited  by  tour- 
ists because  its  roads  are  of  very  recent  date,  and  some  two  or 
three  passes  are  yet  so  steep  that  one  has  to  take  a  good  many 
stiff  walks  to  surmount  them.  But  it  was  to  us  a  succession  of  glo- 
rious experiences  and  views.  Now  we  were  in  sweet  valleys  as 
pastorally  beautiful  and  homelike  as  one  could  wish  ;  little  waving 
fields  and  mowed  lands  so  smooth  and  with  trees  so  scattered  along 
streams  or  in  clustering  copses  that  they  looked  like  well-kept 
parks.  Homesteads  perched  on  steep  mountain  sides  in  gather- 
ings of  a  dozen  out-houses  with  green  moss  or  grass  on  their  roofs 
and  now  and  then  with  little  trees  growing  far  above  the  ridge- 
pole. Scarcely  any  tawdry  or  glaring  in  paint,  but  all  sweetly 
tinted  with  that  softest  of  all  brushes — the  weather,  and  by  that 
truest  of  all  artists — time  ;  beautiful  stabburs,  or  store-houses, 
the  treasure  houses  of  the  owners,  fashioned  with  a  taste  only  to 
be  reached  by  the  rounded  log,  exact  corners,  and  widely  over- 
hanging eaves,  in  the  softest  of  neutral  red,  if  painted,  but  gener- 
ally stained  by  the  coloring  of  oozing  pitch,  helped  perhaps  by  a 
thin  coating  of  tar  which  time  has  wiped  down  as  if  with  light  blend- 
ing brushes  dipped  in  dry  burnt  umber.  We  sometimes  stopped  at 
a  plain  farmer's  station  where  we  would  have  trout  with  sides 
studded  with  rubies,  and  with  butter  and  milk  scented  and  fra- 
grant from  the  sweet  mountain  grass  cropped  by  the  little  cows, 
and  waited  upon  by  a  nice  Norwegian  woman  who  seemed  to  care 
more  for  our  praise  of  her  good  things,  than  for  the  small  price  in 


5'2 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\i 


!      • 


m  . 


£l  ' 


"  kroner  and  acre  "  she  would  charge  for  the  meal ;  then  our  little 
horses — pony-built  and  compact,  wliich  do  not  know  how  to  baulk, 
looking  so  docile  and  sensible,  carrying  us  now  on  the  very  verge 
of  a  precipice  antl  then  almost  on  a  jutting  crag,  and  giving  us  a 
twinkle  from  their  honest  eyes  as  if  saying  "  was  that  not  a  close 
shave?"     These  things  were  all  pleasant  helps  to  enjoyment. 

I  must  not  forget  that  horses  are  not  tied  and  tethered  by  the 
head.  The  halter  is  fastened  to  one  of  the  fore-feet  instead.  When 
a  driver  halts  in  town  or  country  he  fastens  a  cord  from  one  fore- 
foot to  one  of  the  shafts.  When  cattle,  horses,  and  even  sheep, 
are  tethered  out  to  pasture  it  is  done  by  the  foot.  It  is  amusing 
to  see  tliese  educated  animals  reaching  for  an  extra  tuft  of  grass, 
standing  on  three  feet  while  the  fourth  is  stretcheil  to  the  rope. 
The  people  and  their  cattle  live  on  terms  of  the  utmost  intimacy 
anil  are  perfect  friemls.  A  low  word  from  the  owner  is  enough  to 
make  a  pony  put  fort'  uis  best  exertions  and  a  whip  is  rarely 
needed.  A  strange  di  r  needs  the  whip  and  a  good  one  The 
boy  stands  or  sits  bchiui.  the  traveller,  and  when  he  gets  down  to 
walk  going  up  hill  the  jioiiy  i)ays  no  sort  of  attention  '  i  the  trav- 
eller who  drives,  but  wiicii  the  bo\'  mounts,  off  he  tm;^  before  a 
word  is  spoken.  Tlu;  brightest  post-boy  I  had  was  a  woman  who 
coiiUl  jump  up  and  down  with  the  agility  of  a  cat.  And  yet 
she  had  two  sons  in  Minnesota  ;  one  .  '  them  had  been  there 
seven  years,  thus  showing  she  was  no  youngling.  In  my  gallantry 
I  wished  to  get  down  to  open  ,.  gate.  .She  objected  ;  1  gave  her 
to  unilerstand  that  I  was  tpiite  young.  She  looked  at  my  gray 
head  with  an  incredulous  grin.  I  reserved  m>'  gallantr)-  after  liiat 
for  some  more  appreciative  fair  one  and  K't  her  ilo  tiie  juui|)ing. 

Our  little  boys  were  generally  of  the  brigiitest  ami  rosiest  kind 
and  took  great  pride  in  showing  off  tiieir  little  stock  of  ICnglish  ; 
and  how  thankful  were  they  when  they  would  siiake  us  by  the 
hand  and  give  us  a  warm  "  tak  "  (thanks)  for  the  25  "  aere  "  we 
would  give  as  trink  gelt.  (~)nce  we  stopped  at  an  old  wooden 
church  curiously  built  in  a  sort  of  rising  terraces  of  stained 
shingles.  Some  of  its  timbers  were  there  as  they  were  placed 
600  or  700  years  ago.  The  good  pastor  of  Hitterdal  was  most 
kind  when  he  dismissed  the  class  of  some  20  maidens  he  was 
preparing  for  confirmation,  and  showed  us  his  old  treasures. 
Among  other  things  he  pointed  to  a  sort  of  visitors'  registry, 
on  one  of  its  earliest  pages  being  the  name  of  Napoleon,  written 
by  the  Prince  Imperial  before  he  started  off  for  cruel  Zulul.md. 
The  meek-looking  young  girls  in  neat  black  dresses,  with  black 
handkerchiefs  on  their  heads  seemed  thoroughly  to  realize  the 
solemn  ceremon>^  they  were  soon  to  pass  through  when  uniting 
themselves  thoroughly  to  the  church.  The  peasant  women  wear 
usually  a  gown  of  dark  or  black  coarse  woollen  stuff,  with  hand- 
kerchief, light  or  black,  tied  at  the  throat. 

At  times  our  road  lay  along  streams — now  torrents  with  pretty 
falls,  rushing  through  clefts  in  the  rocks,  and  then  spreading  into 


'«/ 


1 


Kr 


len  our  little 
low  to  baulk, 
c  very  vcrjjc 
givinti  us  a 
t  not  a  close 
oynicnt. 
icrecl  by  the 
itead.  When 
om  one  fore- 
even  sheep, 
[t  is  anuisinj^ 
;uft  of  ^rass, 
to  the   rope, 
est  iiUiniac)' 
is  enough  to 
hip  is  rarely 
111  one.     The 
i^ets  ilown  ti) 
1  to  the  trav- 
■ots  before  a 
woman  who 
[.       Ami  yet 
I    been    there 
my  },'allantr\- 
;    1  ^;ave  her 
I  at  my  '^\\\y 
ry  after  tiia't 
le  jumping. 
I  rosiest  kind 
of   I'jv^Iish  ; 
e   us  by  the 
5  "  aere  "  we 
old   WDodeii 
.   of    stained 
were  placeil 
al  was  most 
lens   he   was 
Id  treasures, 
ars'   registrj-, 
con,  written 
icl  Zululand. 
;,  with  black 
)  realize  the 
•hen  uniting 
women  wear 
with  hand- 

with  pretty 
reading  into 


•HITTERDAL"  CHURCH,  THELEMARKEN. 


»i 


'It 


m 


n 


m  i 


ii;' 


• 


!  I 


I  ill 


1,5'' 


FLATDAL  A  HAPPY  VALLEY.  513 

Taroad  and  placid  streams;  quaint  little  saw-  and  grist-mills  w-rc 
frequently  among  the  rocks  about  the  falls,  so  small  that  one 
could  almost  take  them  for  boy's  toy  mills.  These  mills  are  char- 
acteristic features  throughout  the  land.  They  are  always  of  logs, 
often  not  ten  feet  square,  and  usually  covered  with  turf,  all  the 
greener  for  being  within  reach  of  the  spray  of  the  cataract  whose 
fall  turns  their  wheels.  They  arc  large  enough  for  a  set  of  stones, 
a  little  hopper  and_ trough,  and  a  barrel  or  two.  Sometimes  they 
are  run  by  an  outside  over-shot  wheel,  though  more  frequently  by 
a  little  wheel  directly  under  the  stones.  At  one  place  1  counted 
1 1  little  mill-houses,  one  after  another,  within  200  feet  of  each 
other,  on  a  small  mountain  stream.  Many  a  Norseman  grinds 
his  grain,  sharpens  his  axe  and  scythe,  turns  his  lathe,  and  cnts 
the  hay  and  straw  for  his  cattle  by  water.  For  the  latter  pur- 
pose a  wire  band  is  carried  sometimes  quite  a  distance  from  a 
wate--vvheel  into  the  barn.  Now  and  then  one  sees  a  grindstone 
whit  ing  away,  turned  by  its  own  separate  tiny  water-wheel  not 
much  larger  than  a  boy's  flutter-mill. 

Some  of  the  mountains  lifting  from  the  valleys  in  the  Thele- 
marken  are  of  lofty  grandeur  and  the  precipices  of  fearful  heights. 
Wc  passed  many  mountain  lakes,  some  of  them  higji  up  near  the 
eternal  snows,  and  of  depths  almost  unfathomable — 2,000  feet 
and  upwards.  Along  these  we  would  skirt  under  lofty  precipices, 
over  roads  carved  like  galleries  from  the  solid  rock,  and  the 
mountains  on  the  opposite  side  mirrored  in  the  deep  crystal 
water.  After  passmg,  one  day,  through  a  lofty  pass  between 
mighty,  rocky  buttresses,  we  emerged  upon  one  of  the  most  im- 
pressive scenes  I  have  ever  looked  upon.  Fifteen  hundred  feet 
below  us  lay  a  valley  apparently  perfectly  level,  about  a  half  mile 
wide  and  five  or  six  miles  long,  with  a  farm-covered  slope  i,ooo 
feet  high  spreading  to  our  left  and  next  us.  The  level  valley  was 
laid  out  in  meadows  cleanly  mowed,  in  barley  fields,  just  begin- 
ning to  be  built  up  in  corn-stals,  and  in  pea-green  oat  patches ; 
through  its  full  length  stretched  a  river  some  50  or  more  feet 
wide  and  ending  in  a  lake  at  the  farther  point;  scattered  over  it 
were  clumps  anci  clusters  of  trees  gracefully  and  tastefully  placed, 
as  if  planted  for  a  royal  park  ;  dotting  the  little  plain  here  and 
there  were  a  few  farm-houses,  while  close  under  us  was  a  hamlet 
and  a  spired  church.  The  whole  was  bathed  in  a  late  afternoon 
sunlight,  and  was  so  warm  and  beautiful  that  I  involuntarily  ex- 
claimed, "Behold  a  happy  valley."  It  was  exquisitely  beautiful; 
but  when  looking  a  little  above  our  level,  the  scene  ceased  to  be 
beautiful — it  was  at  once  one  of  majestic  grandeur.  On  the  right 
and  left  reared  two  huge  bowlder-like  mountains  3,000  to  4,000 
feet  high  and  of  the  length  of  the  valley.  These  were  of  nearly 
precipitous  sides,  but  rounding  as  they  lifted  to  the  lofty  crests, 
seemed  smooth,  bald,  solid,  and  of  unfissured  rocks  ;  across  the 
lower  end  of  the  valley  was  another  of  like  form  and  character. 
The  plain  below  us  seemed  to  have  been  scooped  out  of  solid 


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S'4 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


rock.  There  was  a  wonderful  impressiveness  in  these  huge 
masses  of  stone,  each  looking  like  a  single  rounded  loaf-shaped 
bowlder,  with  a  few  little  roughnesses  in  which  stunted  pines  had 
taken  root,  making  the  sides  look  semi-green,  but  leaving  the 
summits  cold,  naked,  and  gray.  These  masses  of  solid  rock  are 
more  awe-inspiring  than  far  loftier  summits,  where  they  are  split 
and  sundered  into  needles,  horns,  and  pinnacles.  The  latter 
show  at  once  that  they  have  yielded  to  the  elements.  The  solid 
mass  seems  to  have  defied  time  and  nature,  and  to  rest  in  eternal 
fixedness.  A  road  bending  and  winding  like  a  serpent  upon  itself 
brought  us  soon  down  into  the  valley.  High  upon  the  mountain 
side  hung  a  little  foamy  stream  bending  over  its  very  crest,  and 
looking  at  top  like  a  silver  thread  tight  twisted  and  compact,  but 
as  it  came  lower  down,  seeming  to  be  frayed,  until  within  500  to 
800  feet  of  the  bottom  it  was  unravelled  and  spread  into  silvery 
mists.  It  looked  but  a  tiny  thing,  yet  we  could  hear  it  roar, 
though  it  was  more  than  a  half  mile  away.  This  beautiful  valley 
is  Flatdal  in  Thelemarken. 

Oiir  road  carried  us  nearly  4,000  feet  up,  over  wild  and  dreary 
downs,  far  above  the  tree  line  and  among  bands  of  snow  running 
in  the  deep  furrows  down  to  our  feet.  Few  alpine  passes  are 
grander  than  this,  and  none  more  wildly  dreary.  On  the  little 
upland  valkys  was  fair  grass  on  which  "  saeters  "  were  located, 
and  cows  and  sheep  were  feeding,  but  within  range  of  vision  were 
loftier  slopes  gray  with  reindeer  moss.  Three  of  our  meals  were 
on  fresh  reindeer  meat  ;  as  roast  and  steak  it  was  sweet  and  juicy. 
The  owner  of  Haukeli-saeter  owns  a  herd  of  400.  We  were 
sorry  to  find  they  were  all  some  miles  off  on  a  higher  mountain, 
to  which  there  was  no  road.  He  raises  about  100  a  year.  They 
are  milked  twice  a  week.  Their  food  is  a  peculiar  moss  which 
grows  on  the  bleakest  h.eights.  The  herd  moves  along  as  its 
food  gives  out.  It  is  on  this  account  that  the  Laplander  has  no 
fixed  abode.  He  moves  with  his  friend  and  support.  It  looked 
odd  to  see  huge  antlers  lying  around  loose  like  cattle-horns  in  a 
butcher's  yard.  The  flesh  brings  only  a  trifle  more  than  beef. 
There  are  several  large  herds  in  Norway,  the  largest  having  3,500 
head.  The  lofty  mountain  heights  belong  to  government.  Rein- 
deer owners  pay  for  each  a  little  over  a  kronor  a  year  for  pastur- 
age. The  milk  and  cheese  made  from  it  has  a  sweetish  taste,  not 
unlike  that  of  the  sheep. 

The  most  striking  piece  of  road  I  saw,  and  there  are  many  fine 
ones,  is  that  which  drops  one  down  from  1,000  or  more  feet  into 
the  valley  of  Roeldal.  It  bends  about  in  loops  not  100  feet 
across,  winding  round  and  about  like  a  corkscrew.  Some  foot 
travellers  at  slow  walk  down  the  direct  footpath  beat  us,  though 
we  went  at  a  rapid  trot,  so  rapid  that  I  half  held  my  breath  sev- 
eral times  when  we  seemed  to  be  hanging  on  almost  perpendicu- 
lar precipices.     The  outer  sides  of  mountain  roads  have  protec- 


these   huge 

loaf-shaped 
:d  pines  had 

leaving  the 
)lid  rock  are 
hey  are  split 
The  latter 
.  The  solid 
:st  in  eternal 
t  upon  itself 
lie  mountain 
ry  crest,  and 
rompact,  but 
•ithin  500  to 

into  silvery 
licar  it  roar, 
lutiful  valley 

i  and  dreary 
now  running 
e  passes  are 
)n  the  little 
I'cre  located, 
f  vision  were 
r  meals  were 
;et  and  juicy. 
).  We  were 
er  mountain, 
year.  They 
-  moss  which 
along  as  its 
andcr  has  no 
t.  It  looked 
le-horns  in  a 
•e  than  beef, 
having  2,500 
ment.  Rein- 
ir  for  pastur- 
:ish  taste,  not 

ire  many  fine 
ore  feet  into 
not  100  feet 
Some  foot 
at  us,  though 
y  breath  scv- 
t  perpendicu- 
have  orotec- 


SAETERS  AXD  GAAJiBS.  .,5 

tions  a  fevy  feet  apart  of  blocks  of  stone  three  or  so  feet  hiL^h  set 
firmly  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  slope.  At  a  little  distance  these 
blocks  resemble  crenulations  on  embattled  walls.  Lookin.r  from 
the  lower  valley  of  Rocldal  to  the  road  far  above,  the  bc'ndin-rs 
are  so  short  that  they  might  be  taken  for  embattled  roundel 
towers.  Tumbling  over  the  crest  of  the  mountain  near  this  is  a 
water-fall  not  far  from  1,500  feet  high,  which,  viewed  from  a  point 
opposite  seems  a  smgle  cascade.  The  stream  far  above  is  proba- 
bly not  over  20  feet  wide,  but  it  spreads  over  the  steep  sides  of 
the  rocks  until  in  fan  shape  it  becomes  a  mass  of  foam  a  hundred 
feet  wide.  So  little  has  this  splendid  vallej-  been  visited  that  tiie 
guide  books  do  not  even  mention  this  beautiful  fall  Nestliu"- 
down  in  this  valley  is  a  deep,  dark  lake,  from  which  lift  mountains 
sheer  up  2,000  to  3,000  feet. 

I  spoke  of  "  saeters."  They  are  mountain  establishments  where 
cattle  and  sheep  are  grazed  and  the  cows  milked  during  the  sum- 
mer. The  milk  is  brought  to  the  farms  below  each^iay  when 
near,  and  twice  a  week  when  far  off.  We  met  twice,  early  in  the 
morning,  dozens  of  rosy-cheeked,  tow-headed  beauties,  each  with 
a  couple  of  tin  cans  holding  several  gallons  of  milk.  They  go  up 
at  night,  milk  the  cows,  and  bring  in  the  produce  early  to^heir 
farm  homes,  perhaps  several  miles  off.  The  cans  swing  from  a 
sort  of  harness  over  the  shoulders,  and  are  kept  apart  Ijy  a  flat 
stick  scooped  out  so  as  to  fit  over  the  stomach.  Ever  valley 
farmer  has  his  saeter-land  in  the  mountains.  Often  the  sky 
which  overhangs  his  mountain  land  is  of  equal  value  per  acre. 
A  man  has  perhaps  a  farm  of  25  to  50  acres  in  the  valley  ; 
off  in  the  mountains  he  has  hundreds  or  thousands  of  acres. 
On  these  are  the  saeters.  The  saeter  buildings,  cow-  and  hay- 
houses  of  several  farmers  are  close  together,  and  their  cattle 
graze  in  common.  The  cattle  are  all  housed  each  night  and 
come  in  of  their  own  accord.  Some  of  these  saeters'  are  of 
themselves  now  comfortable  farms,  and  have  considerable  culti- 
vatable  lands  ;  this  since  good  roads  have  been  built  to  reach 
them.  That  is,  some  farms  are  still  called  saeters,  though 
in  strictness  they  are  "gaards"  (farms).  They  are,  too,  the  sta- 
tions on  the  post-roads,  in  high  altitudes,  and  have  their  fixed 
names,  and  on  maps  are  marked  as  if  they  were  villages.  There 
arc  along  the  Thelemarken  road  many  splendid  water-falls,  some 
of  them  tumbling  from  great  heights  and  in  large  streams.  Falls 
are  frequent  of  several  iuindred  feet  high,  and  with  much  more 
water  than  is  in  the  l^ridal  Veil  at  Niagara.  At  one  point  three 
falls  are  close  together,  two  of  them  falling  200  or  300  feet  from 
one  mountain,  the  other  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  gorge  from 
another  mountain.  The  three  are  not  a  hundred  yards  apart.  This 
is  a  charming  spot,  one  of  the  finest  in  the  world.  The  falls  of 
Switzerland  are  tame  things  compared  to  them.  We  did  not  visit 
the  two  great  water-falls.     What  we  saw  was  enough.     I  could 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


write  of  each  wonderful  place  \vc  visited,  but  it  would  take  too 
much  space  ;  I  simply  give  some  as  specimens  of  all  others  ;  these, 
however,  being  those  which  most  pleased  us,  and  being,  too,  more 
or  less  characteristic  of  all  others. 

The  Naeraedal  is  a  gorge  of  terrific  grandeur,  barely  broad 
enough  to  permit  the  passage  of  a  rushing  torrent  and  the  narrow 
road.  It  is  flanked  by  rocky  mountains,  lifted  so  precipitously  as 
to  seem  almost  perpendicular,  of  3.600  and  4,300  feet  respectively 
hi  height.  At  the  outlet  of  this  gloomy  canyon  lies  Gudvangen, 
a  pretty  little  hamlet  on  the  head  of  the  deep  southern  arm 
of  the  Sogncr  Fiord,  itself  but  a  continuation  of  the  Naeraedal, 
only  the  water-way  is  of  breadths  varying  from  half  a  mile 
to  one  or  more  miles,  and  widening  to  several  miles  as  it  nears 
the  sea.  At  the  head  of  the  Naeraedal  gorge,  over  a  steep  slope 
of  1,000  or  more  feet,  climbs,  in  a  succession  of  short  zigzags,  the 
smooth  and  even  road,  having,  now  to  the  right  and  then  to  the 
left,  one  or  two  beautiful  cascades,  tumbling  now  in  leaps  and 
then  in  broken  foam  over  jutting  rocks,  the  streams  forming 
each  being  considerable  rivers.  The  view  from  the  summit  of 
this  slope  resembles  the  Yosemite.  The  mountains  are  al- 
most baldly  naked  gray  felspath  rock,  two  of  them  lifted  in 
huge  domes  and  presenting  so  rounded  fronts  that  one  can 
scarcely  realize  that  they  are  the  projecting  ends  of  a  long  range 
and  are  not  single  well-defined  domes.  Behind  these  are  two 
others,  presenting  their  flanks  to  the  narrow  valley  and  blending 
into  the  vast  rocks  near  the  fiord.  Into  the  depths  of  the  gorge 
the  winter's  sun  reaches  only  for  a  short  time  each  day,  and  in 
some  parts  is  not  seen  at  all  for  two  months.  On  the  top  of  the 
steep  slope  named  is  a  fine  sanitarium  hotel  (Stalheim)  looking 
down  into  this  gloomy  gorge,  and  looking  up  to  the  pinnacles 
3,000  feet  above  in  whitened  mass  of  rock  and  whiter  snow. 

That  one  may  understand  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the 
water-falls  of  Norway  it  is  necessary  to  realize  that  though  narrow 
cataracts  when  they  rusn  through  the  rocky  crevices,  the  streams 
are  yet  so  large  that  when  spread  into  widths  from  an  eighth  to  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  and  several  feet  deep,  they  flow  with  the  cur- 
rents of  strong  rivers.  There  are  dozens  of  these  large  falls  along 
the  route  we  traversed,  tumbling  from  elevations  of  2,000  or  3,000 
feet,  not  all  visible  as  falls  in  a  single  view,  but  in  fearful  rapids, 
and  often  in  a  succession  of  leaps,  or  dashing  over  steeply  slop- 
ing precipices  in  snowy  foam,  and  parts  of  each,  if  looked  at  from 
directly  in  front,  having  all  the  appearance  of  single  leaping 
cascades.  But  besides  these  larger  water-falls  there  arc  hun- 
dreds upon  hundreds  of  smaller  ones,  which  lie  over  and  upon  the 
sides  of  mountains  2,000  to  3,000  feet  in  height  in  bands  of  silver. 
One  rides  through  valleys  and  along  fiords  for  miles  and  miles, 
and  is  never  out  of  sight  of  these  long  streams  and  is  never  out 
of  hearing  of  their  roar.     Many  of  them  which  seem  but  threads 


,  *     *■ 


d  take  too 
icrs ;  these, 
J,  too,  more 

irely  broad 
the  narrow 
ipitously  as 
espectively 
jiidvangcii, 
ithern  arm 
Naeraedal, 
lalf  a  mile 
as  it  ncars 
steep  slope 
'.igzags,  the 
hen  to  the 
1  leaps  and 
ns  forming 
summit  of 
.ins  are  al- 
n  lifted  in 
it  one  can 
,  long  range 
:se  are  two 
id  blending 
f  the  gorge 
day,  and  in 
top  of  the 
im)  looking 
e  pinnacles 
snow. 

cur   of   the 
ugh  narrow 
the  streams 
eighth  to  a 
th  the  cur- 
e  falls  along 
XX)  or  3,000 
rful  rapids, 
eeply  slop- 
ped at  from 
fie    leaping 
e  arc    hun- 
id  upon  the 
ds  of  silver, 
and  miles, 
s  never  out 
3ut  threads 


M/LD  CLIMATE  IN  HIGH  LATITUDES. 


S'7 


are  yet  of  such  volume  that  they  can  be  heard  a  mile  or  more 
away.  In  the  wild  gorge  I  have  just  named,  though  it  is  but 
eight  miles  long,  and  is  the  arm  of  the  fiord  of  the  same  name 
and  about  as  long,  there  are  several  dozen  falls  fed  by  the  great 
snow-fields  which  cover  the  mountain  plateau  above. 

I  should  here  state  that  Norway  might  be  said  to  be  a  great 
mountain  plateau  varying  from  3,000  to  8,000  feet  above  the  sea, 
through  which  in  every  direction  and  in  every  form  run  innumera- 
ble bent  and  distorted  valleys,  some  of  which  seem  to  have  been 
formed  by  splitting  the  mountains  asunder,  and  others  as  if  the 
jets  of  molten  matter  had  suddenly  cooled  before  filling  the  space 
intended  to  hold  them.  These  upper  plateaus  represented  on  a 
chart  are  gnarled  and  irregular  in  shape  as  are  the  valleys  below. 
On  them,  each  fall  and  winter,  is  heaped  a  vast  mass  of  snow, 
caused  by  the  meeting  of  winds  moisture-laden  from  the  gulf- 
stream,  which  washes  the  coast  and  the  colder  winds  from  the 
land.  The  sun  is  not  hot  enough  to  melt  the  snows  in  early 
summer,  but  gradually  sends  them  down  in  innumerable  streams 
till  winter  again  locks  them  up  with  icy  bolts. 

Although  this  country  is  in  a  higher  latitude  than  northern  Lab- 
rador and  southern  Greenland,  yet  its  climate  is  so  tempered  by 
the  gulf  stream  that  on  the  coast  there  is  rarely  as  cold  weather  in 
winter  at  Molde  on  the  63d  degree  and  opposite  the  northern  end 
of  Hudson  Bay,  as  at  St.  Louis.  The  winters  are  very  long  and  in 
the  interior  are  nearly  as  severe  as  at  Chicago,  but  about  the  fiords 
and  the  lakes,  which  are  extensions  of  them,  vegetation  is  very 
rich  and  the  foliage  of  the  trees  is  of  much  luxuriance  and  of  great 
size,  I  measured  a  lilac  leaf  five  inches  in  diameter  and  elm  leaves 
arc  twice  as  large  as  with  us.  This  is  the  true  home  of  the  cur- 
rant. The  bushes  are  as  large  as  our  snowballs  and  the  fruit 
nearly  as  big  as  small  clierries,  and  gooseberries  are  seen  as  large 
as  damsons.  One  rarely  sees  anywhere  so  thrifty  maples  and 
lindens  as  about  Molde  l<"iord. 

The  whole  of  the  Sogner  Mord  presents  magnificently  grand 
scenery,  but  the  sublimest  in  Norway  is  that  of  the  Geirangcr, 
one  of  the  arms  of  the  Stor.  The  water  on  this  and  other  branches 
near  is  a  mile  and  a  half  wide,  but  does  not  appear  half  so  much, 
because  of  the  towering  precipices  which  rise  out  of  the  creek  and 
almost  perpendicularly  climb  to  a  height  of  four  or  more  thou- 
-sand  feet.  I  have  seen  elsewhere  only  one  sheet  of  water  and 
mountain  scene  equal  to  this — the  Koenig  see  in  the  Tyrol.  It  is 
apparently  a  lake,  for  no  outlet  is  seen  when  once  upon  it.  The 
rocks  so  blend  together  in  their  dark  gray  ma.ssiveness  that  they 
seem  solid  buttres.ses  in  every  direction.  The  sharp,  jutting  edge 
of  one  of  the  lofty  cliffs,  2,500  feet  above,  seems  so  to  overhang 
that  passengers  on  our  little  barge  speculated  upon  the  possibility 
of  leaping  from  it  to  the  water  below.  Here  close  by,  like  a 
mighty  pulpit,  is  a  canopied  stone  named  after  St.  Olaf,  who  was 


1 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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hidden  near  by,  and  being  slain  became  the  patron  saint  of 
Norge.  Little  water-falls  tumble  over  the  great  heights,  some 
of  them  lost  in  mists  far  above,  and  until  they  are  again  caught 
by  black  projections,  on  which  they  are  gathered  and  spread  as 
veils  of  lace. 

Perched  in  several  spots  on  terraces  i.ooo  and  2,000  feet  up  on 
the  steep  mountains,  are  tiny  farms  reached  by  zigzag  paths  along 
the  cliffs,  so  steep  that  wooden  poles  are  fastened  along  them  to 
enable  the  climber  to  mount  with  his  burden  of  hay.  Grass  is  cut 
on  every  nook  where  a  basketful  can  be  saved  and  is  then  carried 
in  boats  to  the  foot  of  these  paths,  there  dried,  and  afterward 
carried  on  the  head  above.  We  saw  ha)-makers  on  spots  so  steep 
that  they  rested  on  a  knee  while  the  other  leg  would  be  stretched 
to  reach  a  lower  footing.  They  looked  more  like  climbing  hunters 
than  every-day  plodding  toilers.  How  men  and  cattle  can  move 
about  on  the  d'zzy  hiMghts  during  snowy  winters  is  a  marvel,  and 
now  and  then  it  is  said  one  does  lose  foothold  and  goes  tum- 
bling below.  One  of  the  pleasing  peculiarities  of  Norwegian 
scenery  is  that  in  the  most  frightful  gorges  and  on  the  steepest 
slopes,  every  spot  whereon  soil  has  collected  and  on  which  a  man 
can  stand  becomes  the  mown  meadow  or  field  of  a  hardy  moun- 
taineer. Houses  seem  to  be  hanging  on  the  very  brink  of  dizzy 
precipices,  and  on  inclines  so  steep  that  one  would  suppose  them 
anchored  to  keep  them  from  sliding  down  ;  and  little  fields  are 
green  in  barley  where  one  would  think  goats  must  be  employed 
to  harvest  them,  fields  so  small  that  a  good-sized  umbrella  would 
almost  shade  them.  When  the  slopes  are  free  from  rocks  for 
eight  or  ten  acres  then  they  become  sunny,  smiling  homesteads. 
These  soften  many  rugged  passes  and  give  the  roughest  spots 
oftentimes  a  charming  pastoral  appearance.  Then,  again,  wher- 
ever grass  grows  it  becomes  a  meadow.  Men  and  women  climb 
the  steep  mountain  side  to  cut  close  every  spot  which  can  fur- 
nish a  hamper  full  of  short  hay.  Every  spot  as  large  as  a  good- 
sized  bedspread,  in  wood  or  among  rocks,  is  closely  shaved  and 
the  crop  taken  off.  Hay  cut  from  these  spots  is  carried  off  green 
to  be  dried  elsewhere  and  housed. 

The  air  is  so  humid  that  the  shaven  sward  at  once  takes  an 
emerald  hue.  Little  land  is  cultivatable,  but  a  great  deal  grows 
short  thin  grass,  all  of  which  is  mown,  for  the  bulk  of  the  cattle 
do  not  graze  near  the  houses,  but  are  kept  during  the  summer 
high  up  on  the  mountain  side.  This  grass-land  is  cut  so  evenly 
and  the  crop  is  so  quickly  removed  that  the  mowing  appears 
to  have  been  done  for  beauty  and  not  for  use.  Scattered  over 
land  about  houses  and  hamlets  are  low  birch  and  elm  trees  or 
bushes.  These  give  to  the  valleys  and  lower  mountain  slopes  a 
beautiful  park-like  appearance.  The  trees  mentioned  all  have 
their  regular  uses.  They  are  cut-in  each  year,  and  their  young 
twigs  and  leaves  are  dried  and  stacked  up  about  the  barns,  the 


1 


ron  saint  of 
eights,  some 
again  caught 
nd  spread  as 

30  feet  up  on 
I  paths  along 
ong  them  to 

Grass  is  cut 
1  then  carried 
nd  afterward 
pots  so  steep 

be  stretched 
ibing  hunters 
tie  can  move 
I  marvel,  and 
id  goes  tum- 
f  Norwegian 

the  steepest 
which  a  man 
hardy  moun- 
rink  of  dizzy 
uppose  them 
tic  fields  are 
be  employed 
ibrclla  would 
)m   rocks  for 

homesteads, 
ughest  spots 

again,  whcr- 
ivomcn  climb 
nich  can  fur- 
;^e  as  a  good- 
'  shaved  and 
■ied  off  green 

nee  takes  an 
t  deal  grows 
of  the  cattle 

the  summer 
:ut  so  evenly 
ving  appears 
:attered  over 
elm  trees  or 
tain  slopes  a 
ned  all  have 

their  young 
lie  barns,  the 


THE  ROMSDAL. 


519 


support  their  two  or  three  cows  a  good  part  of  the  long  winter 
months.  Little  boys  and  girls  and  old  people  are  seen  constantly 
picking  elm,  birch,  and  mountain-ash  leaves  in  great  hamper 
baskets,  to  be  dried  and  stored  away.  By  the  way,  we  have 
in  America  no  conception  of  the  beauty  the  mountain-ash  is  pos- 
sessed  of.  They  greatly  enliven  the  appearance  at  this  season  of 
many  Norwegian  landscapes,  and  are  so  red  with  berries  that  they 
look  as  if  they  had  been  sprinkled  with  blood  for  a  passover  in  a 
more  than  Egyptian  night. 

By  many  the  Romsdal  is  considered  the  grandest  of  all  Norwe- 
gian valleys.     It  is  certainly  magnificent.     It  is  a  strange  mi.xture 
of  beautifully  home-like  and  terrific  gorge  scenery.     Lofty  moun- 
tains tower  upwards  of  5,000  feet  high  of  almost  solid,  naked 
gneiss  rock,  so  precipitous  as  to  seem   nearly  vertical,  some  of 
them  terminating  in  small  rounded  pinnacles,  others  cutting  the 
sky  with  sharp-edged  cliffs  ;  some  are  so  smooth  on  their  faces  that 
they  shine  in  a  light,  misty  rain,  and  others  rough  as  if  just  riven 
by  fearful  convulsions.     These  monster  rocks  tower  on  either  side 
of  and  confine  a  valley  nowhere  half  a  mile  wide,  and  in  many 
parts  only  a  few  hundred  yards  across.     The  valley  is  beautifully 
cultivated,  having   pretty  farm-houses,  waving  little  fields,   and 
clean-shorn  and  park-like  meadows,  and  through  it  runs  a  river  of 
much  volume  and  of  crystal  clearness,  always  in  swift  flow,  gen- 
erally in  tumbling,  turbulent,  rapid,  and  in  two  or  three  places  in 
beautiful  cascades,   twisting  and   leaping  down  dark  canyons  or 
clefts  in  the  rocks.     Up  this  majestic  valley  for  several  hours  we 
were  accompanied  by  dark  clouds  hanging  below  the  crests  of  the 
mountain,  now  roofing  the  gorge  over  our  heads,  and  then  break- 
ing away  and  giving  us  glimpses  of  the  sky  lines  far  above.     At 
one  point  a  splendid  cataract  of  large  size  tumbled  close  by  us, 
1,000  feet  in   height,  and  with  all  the  effect  of  a  single  leap; 
a  dark  cloud  screened  its  loftiest  spring,  so  that  it  seemed  to 
be  pouring  in  foaming  mass  out  of  the  very  heavens.   The  Roms- 
dal debouches  into  the  fiord  near  Molde,  a  very  pretty  town  of 
nearly  2,000  people,  and  only  a   few  miles  from  the  Atlantic, 
which  can  be  seen  from  an  eminence  behind  the  town.     Here 
we  were  on  the  63d  parallel,  and  yet  so  soothing  is   the   gulf 
stream  that  vegetation  is  of  much  luxuriance.     Maples,  lindens, 
elms,  and  cherry  trees  wore  leaves  of  great  size,  and  the  currant 
and  gooseberry  bushes  are  twice  as  tall   as  I  have  seen  them 
in  America,  and  the  honeysuckle  embowered  the  houses.    To  the 
€ast  of  the  town,  across  the  fiord,  which  spreads  into  a  land-locked 
bay,  stretches  a  long  line  of  peaked  mountains,  broken  into  an 
exquisite  sky  line  with  patches,  collars,  and  bands  of  snow,  giving 
it  a  wildly  alpine  appearance.     Here  we  were  nearer  the  sea  than 


I 


\\ 


h 


\ 


I 


I 


Vu 


1  ■  ;■.! 


If 


!  1 


I 


I! 


'  i  1 


'A. 


m 


^    '  h 


I  ■  > 


'If  \\M 

M   ''.'1 


):'f 


8/       '., 


1( 


fm  i 


.  ;(  : 


r 


H 


''■  "I 


/j-'ii 


520 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


anywhere  else  before.  Our  journey  from  Odde  had  been  over  the 
north  and  south  arms  of  fiords  and  through  the  high  passes  divid- 
ing them,  and  from  30  to  80  miles  from  the  true  coast  line. 

Before  quitting  the  fiords  I  must  not  omit  to  mention  Sjoe- 
holt,  on  the  Slyngs  Fiords,  which  affords  one  of  the  most  charm- 
ing water  and  mountain  views  to  be  found  in  any  land.  The 
fiord,  four  or  five  miles  wide,  lies  between  lofty  mountains  more 
or  less  covered  with  verdure  and  reaching  toward  the  ocean  for 
15  or  20  miles,  with  a  background  of  prettily  outlined  hills.  The 
mountains  fall  in  height  from  those  nearest  to  those  farthest  off, 
in  such  manner  that  the  loss  of  elevation  in  the  more  distant  ones 
seems  so  be  caused  by  perspective,  rather  than  in  reality. 

The  Romsdal  pass  ends  in  a  high  mountain  plateau  of  wild  and 
desolate  character,  and  then  commences  the  valley  of  Gudbrand 
or  Guldbrandsdal,  which  cuts  Norway  from  the  northwest  to  the 
southeast.  In  this  was  the  scat  of  the  last  of  the  pagan  chiefs  of 
the  land.  The  mountains  in  this  charming  valley  are  quite  high, 
but  have  long  slopes  on  which  are  beautiful  farms  and  thrifty 
farmers,  living  in  good  old-fashioned  style.  When  I  say  beauti- 
ful farms,  I  mean  for  this  land.  Now  and  then  is  a  field  of  20 
acres  in  size,  generally  smaller,  but  running  one  into  another  so 
closely  as  to  give  a  single-field  appearance  to  the  whole.  In  many 
respects  the  characteristics  of  the  valley  are  not  unlike  some  of 
the  finest  Swiss  valleys,  only  this  continues  at  greater  length, 
being  considerably  over  100  miles  in  extent.  The  farm-lands 
climb  1,000  or  more  feet  up  the  mountain  side  and  then  meet 
upper  wooded  heights,  only  a  few  of  the  loftier  ones  being  devoid 
of  trees. 

Our  little  roached  horses  carried  us  in  good  trot,  down  this 
valley  to  Lillehammer,  where  we  took  steamer  on  the  long 
lake  dignified  here  as  an  inland  sea,  the  Mioesen,  a  beauti- 
ful, narrow  sheet  of  water,  bordered  by  fine  mountains,  with 
every  slope  a  picture  of  pastoral  beauty.  But  we  have  Copen- 
hagen now  not  far  off  to  sec,  and  I  close,  after  having  done  but 
half  justice  to  the  land  of  Norge. 


> '    ! 


f/ 


!',^ 


f«  • 


;n  over  the 
isses  divid- 
line. 

ition  Sjoc- 
ost  charm- 
aiul.  The 
ains  more 
ocean  for 
lills.  The 
irthest  off, 
stant  ones 

y- 

if  wild  and 
Gud  brand 
I'cst  to  the 
1  chiefs  of 
luite  high, 
nd  tiirifty 
ay  bcauti- 
leld  of  20 
notlicr  so 
.  In  many 
c  some  of 
2V  length, 
farm-lands 
hen  meet 
ng  devoid 

lown  this 
the  long 
a  beauti- 
lins,  with 
/e  Copen- 
done  but 


CHAPTER   XLVIII. 

I.ANES-RUX  TO  liERI.lN-HKRI.IX    IN  xSj.  Axli  xllw- 
KKFI.KCTIONs. 

^er/ifi,  September  21,  1888 
.    ^"^  approach  to  Copenhagen  by  sea  from  the  north  is  quite 
imposmg.     On    he  left  lies  Sweden,  with  its  high,  sloping  L^u   d 
pleasantly  wooded,  and  dotted  by  villages  of  ^ome  s  ze.^   On    he 
right    he    the     ow-lifting  lands  of   Denmark,   or  Zealand    with 
picturesque  I  lelsingoer,  the  old  gateway  to  the  IkUtic  for    he  sJa 

The  la  dy  Danes  held  the  key  to  unlock  the  gates  and  demanded 
and  obtained  no  light  toll  from  trading  craft  which  wished  to    e 
o.  to  barter  with  the  people  of  the  northern  inland  sea.     With  a 
deeply  uttered    "Vaer   saa   god"   (be    so    good),   the   toll-taker 
boarded  every  ship  gomg  or  coming.     If  the  skipper  was  slow  to 
pay  the  leather-jcrkined  Dane  laid  his  heavy  hand  upon  a  hu-e 
blade  hanging  over  his  hip,  and  pointing  to  the  big  pop-guns 
ranged    ike  unheaded  beer  kegs  about  frowning   Kronbor-  n-ot 
his  gold  without  much  ado.     Klsinore  was  a  big  thing  in  olden 
days,  and  sagely  crazed  Hamlet  uttered  its  name  sonorously.     I 
know  not  if  the  prototype  of  the  ghost  exacted  fixed  fees      He 
and  those  of  his  ilk  perhaps  took  as  occasion  demanded  or  abilitv 
to  pay  permitted,  but  when  the  Hanscatic  League,  those  free  cru- 
saders whose  God  was  trade,  and  whose  coursers  trod  the  path 
less  sea  in  quest  of  gain,  toppled  over,  the  Dane  had  his  regular 
toll-fees,  and  charged  somewhat  as  per  tonnage.     This,  however 
became  a  bitter  pill  to  swallow  for  the  great  nations  which  could 
take  all  Denmark  down  at  a  gulp  without  making  a  wry  face.    So 
not  long  ago,  I  forget  when  exactly,  but  since  the  Yankee  carved 
out   the  golden  heart  of   Mexico,  they  paid  to  Denmark  some- 
where in  the  neighborhood  of  §80,000,000  for  the  relinquishment 
of  the  right  to  close  the  free  use  of  this  artery  of  old  ocean,  and 
since  then  the  once  grand  and   powerful  Elsinore  has  dropped 
down  to  a  town  of  a  few  thousand  population,  whither  people  go 
on  excursions  to  revive  old  memories  ;  and  the  amiable  Christian, 
ninth  of  the  name,  carries  the  fame  of  his  land   all  over  Europe 
by  furnishing  unkinged  countries  with  rulers,  and  reigning  rulers 
with  queens,  and  is,  I  hope,  furnishing  the  veins  of  royal  lines 
with  a  vigorous  and  yet  kindly  blood. 

521 


I  I  \ 


% 


I  (.■.■■l«T' 


1 1 


} 


1 


i  ■  M  ^ 


Ui 

1  ■11 

1 ' 


t    ) 


522 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


l!.JI 


1( 


;";; 


U  !!'/ 


I  believe  in  Dani.sh  blood,  for  I  go  even  further  back  than  our 
Republican  candidate,  Ben,  does  for  the  origin  of  our  line.  It  was 
Aircsen,  the  Yorkshire  Dane,  who  helped  to  flog  the  Saxon  and 
stole  some  one's  north  English  home,  and  set  us  afloat  upon  the 
troublous  waters  of  this  world.  Out  of  revenge,  John  Bull,  unable 
to  slash  the  man,  put  a  rough  aspirate  to  his  name,  and  he  became 
"  Harrison."  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  say  to  the  ghost  of  this 
old  fellow,  "  I  will  call  thee  rovnl  Dane."  I  am  not  by  any  means 
certain  his  was  blue  blood  at  all,  unless  of  the  color  of  blue  flame. 
For  his  descendants  were  "butchers  and  bakers  and  candle-stick 
makers,"  and  especially  ran  to  the  trade  of  blacksmithing,  and  the 
bluest  of  blcizes  arose  from  their  furnaces,  if  not  running  in  their 
veins,  and  Cromwell's  friend  could  have  made  the  axe  which  clev- 
erly taught  kings  that  they  were  quite  human.  I  like  the  Danes, 
too  after  visiting  them.  They  are  a  nice  sort  of  people,  good-look- 
ing, active,  and  appear  brimful  of  intelligence.  The  men  are  strong 
and  hardy,  and  Willie  says  the  girls  arc  very  good-looking.  I  had 
to  tear  him  away  from  the  Tivoli  when  the  clock  struck  low  \2, 
and  had  I  not  exercised  i^rudent  parental  restraints,  he  would 
have  gone  to  that  fairy  garden  every  night.  He  has  more  admira- 
tion for  European  female  costume  than  I,  and  the  nearer  he 
approaches  to  Paris  the  greater  grows  his  zeal  in  that  direction. 
Perhaps  it  is  the  difference  between  19  years  of  age  and  6^.  He 
dotes  on  rosy  cheeks.  I  pity  the  poor  things  who  are  caged  up 
in  corsets  and  weighted  down  with  skirts. 

But  I  was  approaching  Copenhagen.  The  two  shores  of  the 
Sound  are  pleasing,  but  tliat  of  Denmark  the  more  so.  There  arc 
a  succession  of  villages,  one  almost  running  into  the  other.  The 
spires  and  towers  of  the  capital  beyond  loomed  high  above  the 
city,  over  which  rested  a  heavy  veil  of  smoke,  telling  plainly  of 
English  soft  coal ;  not  a  pall  such  as  hangs  over  Chicago,  but  too 
much  so  for  the  beauty  of  the  city  or  for  the  whiteness  of  shirt 
fronts.  Passing  the  picturesque  fort,  all  green  with  high  sward- 
covered  earthworks,  and,  through  two  lines  of  war  steamers 
showing  iron  teeth,  and  old  ships  of  the  line  (the  royal  navy),  we 
landed  at  a  pretty  pier,  about  which  gayly  dressed  people  were 
enjoying  an  evening  promenade. 

We  soon  found  ourselves  in  a  fine  city  of  300,000  people,  well- 
built,  well  paved,  and  in  every  way  worthy  to  be  the  capital  of  a 
thriving  though  not  large  kingdom.  The  people  have  quite  a 
cosmopolitan  style  about  them,  and  move  about  with  a  brisk,  busi- 
ness air.  Shop  windows  make  pretty  displays  and  signs  are 
gaudy.  It  is  astonishing  how  four  or  five  names  predominate  all 
over  the  town.  In  Norway  you  call  a  boy  "Olaf"  and  the 
chances  are  he  will  answer  you.  Here  you  may  take  off  your  hat 
to  "  Mr;  Nielsen."  He  will  either  return  your  salute,  or  he  will 
say  you  are  mistaken,  his  name  is  "  Jansen."  Nielsens,  Olsens, 
Petersens,  and  Jansens  are  everywhere.     It  seemed  to  me  that 


.'     \ 


':|'"i 


-T' 


:k  than  our 
nc.     It  was 
Saxon  and 
it  upon  the 
lUilI,  unable 
1  he  became 
liost  of  this 
'  any  means 
bUie  flame, 
candle-stick 
iny,  and  the 
iufr  in  their 
wiiich  clev- 
;  the  Danes, 
;,  good-look- 
n  are  strong 
king.    I  had 
uck  low   12, 
s,  he  would 
lore  admira- 
c   nearer   he 
at  direction. 
\m\  63.     He 
re  caged  up 

lores  of  the 

.    There  are 

other.     The 

h  above  the 

ig  plainly  of 

aeo,  but  too 

;ncss  of  shirt 

high  sward- 

,'ar  steamers 

al  navy),  we 

jeople  were 

jeoplc,  well- 
capital  of  a 
lave  quite  a 
a  brisk,  busi- 
signs  are 
dominate  all 
and  the 
off  your  hat 
c,  or  he  will 
sens,  Olsens, 
to  me  that 


af 


THORWALDSEX,  BRAlIti,  AXD  AX ni:KSi:.\ .       5.3 

out  of  every   100  signs,  more  than  half  of  tlicm  were  of  these. 
Sometimes  "Jansen  "  took  a  variation  and  c,ilU,d  himself  "Johan- 
sen,"  and  "  Petersen  "  became  "  IVdersen."     Hut  the  dodge  could 
not  fool  a  knowiujT  one — they  were  "Jansen  "  and  "  retuiscn  "  still, 
just  as  "  Smythe     is  surely  "  Smith."     Stores  arc  crowded  closely 
together,  and  basements  are  evidently  .is  poj).   .n  as  first-floors. 
All  that  is  recpiired  is  enough  of  the  basement  window  above  the 
sidewalk  to  make  a   pretty  display,  and   the  below  ground  is  a 
good  locality  for  a  money  changer,  a  meerschaum  dealer,  or  a 
statuette  vendor.     The  streets  in  the  old  town  are  narrow  and  the 
sidewalks  very  contracted,  but   they  are   all   kcjjt  clean,  and   as 
many  people  walk  in   the  roadway  as  on  the  foot-path;  this  es- 
pecially in  the  evening  when  wagon  trafllc  is  mosth-  over.     The 
streets  were  generally  well  peopled,  probably  more  so  while  we 
were  there  than  usual,  owing  to  the  exhibition  then  coming  to  a 
close.     In  the  new  quarters  the  streets  are  tolerably  broad  and 
the  houses   rarely  under   four  stories  in   height,   five  being  the 
usual  number.     These  newer  buildings  are  of  prett)-  modern  archi- 
tecture, but  built  in  solid  blocks,  there  being  very  few  separate 
houses  with  yards  or  grass  plats.     Looked  down  upon,  from  one 
of  several  church  towers,  the  city  is  picturesque.     1  chose  the  one 
known   as  the  "  Round  Tower,"  for  my  observation,  because  of 
its  easy  ascent  over  a  broad  winding  walk  upon  brick  arches,  up 
which  Peter  the  Great  rode  on  horseback,  and  his  cjuecn,  Cath- 
erine, in  a  carriage.    This  tower  is  1 10  feet  high.    By  stepping  the 
outer  edge  of  the  walk  I  found  it  330  yards.     The  old  town  from 
it  looks  very  quaint,  with  its  tall  houses  built  on  narrow,  irregular 
streets,  of  lofty,  steeply  pitched  roofs,  with  two,  three,  and  some- 
times four  stories  of  trap  windows  cut  through  the  red  bent  tiles. 
Circling  about   the  old  city  is  the  finely  built  newer  town,  with 
massive  blocks  of  buildings  all  in  black-slate  roofing.      Tliere  are 
some   fine   public   buildings  in   the  city,  and  the  old  Rosc-nburg 
palace  is  filled  with   mementoes  of  the   kings  and  queens  of  the 
land,  many  of  them  rich  and  interesting. 

But  it  is  not  the  kings  and  queens  or  their  works  which  make 
Copenhagen  interesting  to  the  traveller.  It  is  the  memory  of  three 
men— Tycho  Brahe,  who  played  with  the  stars  and  made  them 
the  companions  of  man  ;  Hans  Christian  Andersen,  who  touches 
the  human  heart  and  makes  the  prattle  of  children  sweet  songs 
for  old  age;  and  Bertel  Thorwaldsen,  whose  chisel  gave  to  marble 
a  breathing  soul.  These  three  have  monuments  here,  but  the 
real  monuments  of  one  are  in  the  scientific  libraries  of  the  world, 
and  of  another  on  the  book-shelves  of  the  reading  mothers  in 
many  lands.  They  can  be  known  everywhere,  but  it  is  only  in 
Denmark's  capital  that  one  can  fully  know  the  grandeur  of  Thor- 
waldsen or  enjoy  his  works.  There  one  breathes  a  Thorwaldsen 
atmosphere.  If  not  near  one  of  his  great  pieces  in  marble  or 
plaster,  he  sees  about  him  in  shop  windows  or  in  hotels  and  stores 


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A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


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little  statuettes  and  placqucs,  fine  reduced  copies  of  his  master- 
pieces. Close  by  the  f^reat  palace,  now  but  a  shell,  for  only  its 
solid  walls  were  left  unconsumed  by  fire,  stands  the  Thorwaldsen 
museum,  solid,  massive,  and  gloomy,  and  not  unfittingly  so,  too, 
for  it  contains  his  tomb,  as  well  as  the  bulk  of  his  works  and  of 
his  art  and  household  treasures.  The  oblong  building  surrounds 
an  open  court,  in  the  centre  of  which  is  his  grave,  green  with 
growing  vines,  but  plain  and  otherwise  unadorned.  His  real 
monument  are  the  creations  of  his  brain  and  chisel,  which  fill  the 
rooms  and  corridors  three  stories  high  of  the  building  enclosing 
his  ashes.  There  one  can  wander  for  hours,  feeling  that  the  very 
spirit  of  the  man  is  hovering  near  him.  And  what  a  spirit  is  his !  It 
speaks  in  his  every  statue  and  rests  before  you  in  his  every  relievo. 
I  am  periiaps  not  connoisseur  enough  to  feel  thus  and  try  to  find 
a  cause  for  the  feeling.  I  reached  the  conclusion  that  it  arose 
from  the  presence  of  his  own  statue  by  himself  among  his  other 
works.  This  is  so  natural  and  life-like  that  it  seems  to  live  in  and 
to  pervade  the  entire  building.  His  Christ  and  the  Twelve  in 
the  Church  of  our  I.ady,  are  considered  the  grandest  works  of 
his  hand,  but  tlicy  do  not  so  strike  me.  The  Redeemer  is 
majestic,  but  to  nie,  more  from  its  great  size  and  its  si'iiple  pose 
than  from  any  conception  it  embodies.  Take  away  tlie  sentiment 
which  any  fine  representation  of  the  Saviour  necessarily  arouses, 
and  there  is  not  much  left — a  pagan,  a  cold  unbeliever,  could 
look  on  it  utterly  unmoved.  Different  is  the  effect  produced  by 
the  frieze  which  surrounds  the  base  of  the  vaulted  dome  behind. 
This  represents  the  procession  to  Calvary's  hill.  The  horses  seem 
actually  moving,  excited  by  the  shouts  of  the  multitude,  and  one 
can  almost  hear  the  cry  of  "  Crucify  him  !  "  by  those  who  arc 
hi.rrying  toward  the  hill.  So  life-like  is  the  form  of  Mary  as  she 
drop;  untler  weary  agony,  that  one  can  see  her  as  she  is  sinking. 
Christ,  seeing  her,  seems  to  pause  and  loom  up  as  he  bears  his 
lu:\vy  cross.  The  wood  grows  light,  bornt  up  by  the  mighty  heart 
of  the  bearer,  and  the  sad  yet  graml  pity  of  the  son,  as  he  turns 
his  face  toward  his  sorrowing  mother,  is  wonderfully  touching. 
1  have  never  heard  this  frieze  spoken  of,  but  to  me  it  is  the  finest 
design  of  the  mighty  master. 

The  opera-house  is  a  building  of  decided  artistic  merit,  and  it 
is  said  the  performances  in  it  are  of  a  high  order.  J^ut  it  is  to  the 
Tivoli  one  goes  to  see  the  gayety  and  life  of  Copenhagen.  Its 
grounds  are  of  many  acres  and  contain  all  sorts  of  amusement, 
from  the  Flying  Dutchman  to  the  orchestra  dispensing  classic 
music.  One  can  spend  a  whole  evening  and  not  take  in  the 
shows.  Cafd's  abound  to  suit  every  purse  and  music  for  every 
taste.  Here  under  a  handsome  half-dome  is  a  great  brass  band 
with  appropriate  airs.  Two  hundred  yards  off  is  a  huge  glass 
pavilion,  with  light  supporting  pillars  and  arches  decorated  with 
trailing  vines  and  masses  of  rare  exotics ;  crystal  chandeliers,  bright 


j^K 


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It 


COPENIIAGKN.     THE  TIVOl.I.  525 

with  a  thousand  ^;as  jets,  flashitifj  tlirou^'Ii  prismatic  poiulatUs 
and  an  orchestra  of  100  instnimL-nts  discourses  music  of  ilie  hi^h' 
est  order.  Close  by  tiie  first  is  a  cheaper  restaurant  and  c.rfC- 
wliere  a  few  aere  will  enable  a  moderate  man  to  slake  his 
thirst  or  satisfy  his  lum5,fcr,  whil'.-  hearing  good  band  music.  At 
the  crystal  pavilion  the  chocolate,  coffee,  and  ices  are  as  go'od'as 
one  gets  at  Paris,  and  the  wines  are  costly,  and  thousantls  of  the 
elite,  in  pretty  costumes,  eat,  drink,  promenade,  and  tint.  Tiie 
entrance  fee  to  the  garden  with  all  of  its  privileges  is  only  ^o  aere, 
about  14  cents.  Thousands  go  every  niglit  and'take  thei'r  evening 
meal,  and  thereby  make  the  stock  of  the  company  a  good  invest- 
ment. The  garden  is  brilliantly  liglited  with  eKotricity  and  gas, 
and  when  we  attended  the  most  perfect  order  and  dccomm 
reigned.  Between  the  two  principal  music-houses  is  a  variety 
theatre,  where  rather  rollicking  pantomime  is  performed.  These 
three  sets  of  amusements  alternate,  so  that  a  visitor  can  go  from 
one  to  the  other,  a  regular  printed  programme  giving  him  the 
pieces  to  be  played  and  the  order,  so  that  he  can  take  liis  .sausage 
to  band  music,  his  ices  and  chocolate  to  orchestral,  laugh  both 
down  between  times  at  the  show,  and  promenade  among  acres  of 
otiier  amusements. 

Apparently  the  biggest  man  in  Copenhagen,  ne.xt  to  the  king, 
is  the  owner  of  Karlberg  brewery.  Not  only  does  he  slake  every 
person's  thirst,  but  is  a  patron  of  arts.  He  has  a  fine  gallery 
and  adorns  the  exposition.  It  may  be  for  advertisement.  But 
would  it  not  be  a  good  thing  for  some  of  our  millionaires  to 
advertise  in  the  same  way.  By  the  way,  lie  has  queer  advertise- 
ment in  the  grounds.  A  huge  bottle,  50  to  100  feet  high,  in  the 
top  of  which  people  go  in  lines  to  see  the  stars,  t  have  often  heard 
of  people  seeing  stars  by  getting  a  bottle  into  themselves,  but  here 
the  thing  is  reversed.  Near  the  grounds  the  brewer  has  an  electri- 
cal lens,  a  sort  of  revolving  light-house,  which  carries  rays  to  a  great 
distance,  sending  rainbow  hues  at  night  among  the  branches  of  the 
trees  and  over  domes,  and  far  off  on  lofty  buildings. 

Adjoining  and  occupying  the  grounds  during  the  day  is  the 
National  Exposition.  This  is  quite  thorough,  but  not  very  large. 
The  main  building  is  of  beautiful  design,  and  great  taste  has 
been  displayed  in  the  arrangement  of  goods  and  wares.  Next  to 
Denmark,  Sweden  makes  the  largest  exhibition,  and  Russia  the 
richest.  This  latter  people  are  treading  hard  upon  the  more 
western  ones  in  industrial  arts,  but  run  largely  to  rich  and  costly 
fabrics.  Norway  is  prettily  and  characteristically  represented 
with  log  mountain  houses,  reindeer  and  peasants  in  costume. 
The  art  gallery  has  many  fine  things,  Denmark  and  Sweden 
taking  the  lead,  Norway  following.  The  Germans  claim  that 
their  best  things  have  gone  to  Munich. 

The  city  of  Copenhagen  has  some  parks  quite  in  the  town, 
which  add  greatly  to  its  beauty.    These  occupy  partly  the  place 


Ml 


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1 1  :'  ^^f ! 

;  (Mil 


526 


y^  7?.4C£'  IV/TJ/  THE  SUN. 


of  the  old  fortifications.  Tiiey  are  thoroughly  kept  up,  and 
afford  the  people  charming  walks  without  the  necessity  of  patron- 
izing the  street-cars  to  reach  them.  There  are  many  monuments 
and  statues  adorning  different  squares  and  gardens,  all  of  con- 
siderable merit,  and  a  broad  sl'eet  of  lake  water  through  the  now 
quarter  of  the  city.  An  hour's  run  by  rail  brings  the  sight-seer 
to  Fredericksborg,  a  very  handsome  palace  rising  out  of  a  pretty 
lake.  Unfortunately  the  water  is  very  nasty,  and  makes  one 
hold  his  breath  when  the  wind  is  coming  toward  him  ;  but  the 
grounds  are  beautiful,  and  the  interior  of  the  palace  charming. 
It  is  arranged  as  a  national  museum,  showing  the  progress  of  the 
kingdom's  history,  and  possesses  many  charming  pictures,  the 
finest  being  by  Block.  His  small  pictures  in  the  chapel  repre- 
senting the  history  of  Christ  arc  marvels  of  beauty,  but  must  be 
seen  to  be  enjoyed,  and  cannot  be  described.  An  amusing  inci- 
dent occurred  to  us  in  the  palace.  We  entered  a  long,  narrow 
gallery.  At  the  farther  end  of  it  we  saw  what  appeared  to  be 
life-sized  figures.  Involuntarily  I  exclaimed,  "  Ya  Amerikancts," 
and  marched  on,  as  I  recognized  one  as  that  of  the  czar  of  Russia. 
It  was  a  huge  picture,  reiiresenting  King  Christian  ami  his  (jueen 
and  their  children,  with  their  wives  or  husbands  and  their  chil- 
dren, in  all  32,  and  of  life-size.  So  finely  executed  is  tiie  whole 
that  when  first  seen  in  the  distance  they  look  the  originals  them- 
selves. The  czar  and  czarina  are  in  the  foreground,  and  first 
seen  when  one  approaches  through  the  long  gallery.  \\  hat  a 
progen}-  has  this  Danish  king!  Tliere  stood  the  Aul^cat  of  the 
Russias,  the  most  powerful  individual  in  the  world;  t.ie  future 
king  of  England  if  the  good  old  lady  will  ever  let  him  r.iount  the 
throne  of  the  most  powerful  government  the  world  e/cr  knew  ; 
the  king  of  Greece,  ruling  the  land  red-Howered  from  its  soil 
being  rich  with  the  blood  of  heroes  ;  the  crown  prince  and  little 
girls  and  boys  enough  to  furnisli  all  future  Christendom  with 
royal  eaters  for  the  people  to  feed. 

The  run  from  Copenhagen  by  rail  through  Zealand  was  very 
interesting.  The  farm-houses  arc  low,  all  in  squares,  all  thatched 
and  quaint.  The  queer  old  church  towers,  square  with  high- 
pitched  roof,  as  if  the  builders  had  quit  before  the  towers  were 
finished  and  thrown  over  them  temporary  tile  coverings.  The 
towers  are  about  a  third  of  the  whole  ground-plan  of  tiie  church 
edifices. 

The  country  is  all  thoroughly  c.  Itf.  ated  of  good  soil,  and 
teeming  with  produce.  Cattle,  hor'.os,  and  sheep  were  browsing 
down  tiie  clover  or  grass  in  regular  lines,  every  one  tethered, 
each  with  line  enough  to  enable  it  to  feed  up  to  the  next  one's 
bound.  Instead  of  driving  the  cows  to  the  house  to  be  milked, 
the  maid  visits  them  in  order  across  the  field.  The  milking 
seemed  to  go  on  up  to  ten  o'clock  or  later.  All  animals  are 
tethered   by  a  head   halter,  but  the  muzzle  bands  are  of  wood 


t  up,  and 
of  patron- 
onumcnts 
1.11  of  con- 
li  the  new 
sight-seer 
)f  a  pretty 
nakes  one 
;  but  the 
charming. 
■CSS  of  the 
:tures,  the 
ipcl  rcpre- 
it  must  be 
using  inci- 
iig,  narrow 
■ared  to  be 
crikanets," 
of  Russia, 
his  ([ueen 
their  chil- 
the  whole 
inals  theni- 
1,  ant!   first 
^     What  a 
•c-at  of  the 
t.ie  future 
mount  the 
/er  knew ; 
n    its  soil 
and  little 
(lom  with 

was  \ery 

thatchetl 

with  high- 

owers  were 

ngs.      1  he 

he  church 

soil,  and 
browsing 
:  tethereil, 
next  one's 
be  milked, 
le  iTiilking 
nimals  are 
e  of  wood 


COPENHAGEN  TO  BERLIN. 


527 


instead  of  leather ;  two  sticks  across  the  lateral  jaw  fastened  at 
top,  but  with  holes  under  the  jaw.     Through  these  the  line  runs. 
If  the  animnl  pulls,  the  sticks  act  as  a  clamp  and  soon  cure  the 
wearer  of  ar.y  disposition   to  pull.     I  saw  hundreds  of  animals 
L/ul  at   pasture,  but   not   a   single   one  loose.     This  causes  each 
animal   to  eat  closely  its  own  little  pasturage  and  insures  great 
economy  of  grass.     Parts  of  the  country  look  very  wood)-,  owing 
to  the  fact  that  lines  of  crees  are  planted  along  the  ;dges'of  every 
field.    These  arc  all  cut-in  for  twigs  for  fuel  and  to    lake  fences  of, 
the  twigs  woven  into  and  through  uprights.    There  were  seen  few 
fences  in  Zealand,  but  on  the  island  south  the  land  w  as  fenced  into 
very  small  fields,  and  yet  in  all  of  these  the  grazing  stock  were 
tethered.     Apparently  the  Danes  are  good  farmers.    'The  ground 
being  sown  in  rye  or  wlicat  was  admirably  prepared,  and  there 
was  a  general  appearance  of  comfort  about'the  farmsteads  and  an 
air  of  thrift  everywhere.     The  people  look  as  ii  they  were  "-ov- 
erned  by  fair  laws.     It   has  been   the  boast   of  their' kings  that 
their  monuments  were  in  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  that  they 
could  at  any  time   safely   lie  down   upon  the  lap  of  a  subject. 
Certainly  a  happy,  as  well  as  a  proud  boast. 

At    Gjedserodde   we   took    steamer   for   Warnemunde    at  the 
mouth  of  the  Warnow  River  in  Mecklenburg,  reaching  it  in  two 
hours.     This    is    a    pretty   sea-b,ithing    place    for     he    Prussians. 
Along  the  banlv  of  the  river  for  nearly  a  mile,  .iver  a  well-built 
quay,  is  a  narrow  esplanade,  planted   with  nice  young  trees,  and 
lined  on  the  inner  side  with   little  cottages,  each  with  a  veranda 
or  a  porch  enclosed  with  glass,  in  which  we  could  see  from   the 
steamer,  as  we  sailed  by  close  to  the  shore,  the  fashionable  people 
sitting  at  tables  as  if  in  glazed  conservatories.     Many  were  prom- 
enading under  the  trees.     The  ladies  must  have  been  pretty,  for 
Willie  insisted  that  we  stop  overaday,  and  sighed  when  I  refused. 
We  huuled  and  took  rail  for  Berlin.     We  passed  by  quaint  old 
Rostock,  with  its  lofty  church  towers  and  its  memories  of  past 
glory    when    it    was    an     influential    member   of    the    Hanseatic 
League.      Then    tlirough    the  Mecklenburg  Switzerland.     I  was 
quite  surprised  to  find  Prussia  possessed  any  country  with  such 
fine  ■■ccncry.     l"'or  many  miles  we  ran  through  low  mountains, 
or  rather  high  hills,  clotheil  in  fine  forest,  with  now  and  then  a 
pretty  lake  and  several  quaint  old  towns.     We  saw  quite  a  num- 
ber of  handsome  chateaux,  and  still  more  large  manorial  est.d> 
lishments   or   Ritter  houses,  with   huge  squares   of  barns ;   with 
great   fieUls.  where   stean    machinery  seemed  to  be  usetl  in  h.ir- 
vesting  and  scores  of  laborers  were  at  work.    There  were  meadows 
large  enough  to  make  a  dozen  ordinary  German  farms,  and  dozens 
of "  tidy-looking    peasant   women  were  raking  hay.  and  scores  of 
men  were  mowing  in  long  lines.     In  three  instances  I  saw  propri- 
etors on   horseback  overlooking  many  field   laborers,  thi'^  being 
the  first  time  I  had   ever  seen   farming  on  this  scale  in  Germany. 
The  whole  ride  was  pretty  till  night  fell. 


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V   n-ri 


■»      ( 


528 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


Reaching  Berlin,  we  drove  to  the  Central  Hotel.  The  porter 
told  us  he  had  but  two  rooms  v:icant,  and  yet  the  house  accom- 
modates 700  guests.  When  l-.c  informed  me  of  the  price  of  the 
vacant  rooms  I  told  him  the  revenues  had  not  come  for  this  year 
from  my  island  in  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  tliat  I  only  wanted  to 
stop  a  few  days,  and  did  not  wish  to  purchase  the  hotel.  A  Ger- 
man hotel  porter  is  probably  the  most  dignified  of  human  beings. 
One  who  has  never  seen  one  can  form  no  idoa  of  the  dignity  of 
which  the  human  form  is  capable.  They  never  laugh,  very  rarely 
smile.  Their  caps  go  off  with  exquisite  g-ace  to  a  man  who 
drives  up  with  a  footman.  Their  hats  are  an  Immovable  fixture 
to  a  traveller  who  approaches  in  a  sccond-chus  carriage.  Willie 
asked  me  one  day  if  tiicre  were  not  tralr.in;  ■.  chools  for  porters, 
they  were  so   fearfully  dignified.     '  t   'i   I  hey  were  born  so. 


For  did   not  the   Roman  say  :  "  P 


:>••' 


ur,  non  fit."     We 


then  went  to  the  Windsor,  an  old  house,  wli';re  we  pay  our  money 
and  get  its  worth.  And  then  at  last  we  were  fixed  in  the  capital 
of  the  German  Empire,  the  land  of  Rudesheimer  and  Ilochheimer, 
and  of  the  r —'1  lager  that  cheers  but  does  not  .'nebriate,  the  land 
of  personal  liberty, — I  do  not  know  so  well  as  to  the  other  kind, 
— the  land  which  in  a  few  short  months  this  year  had  three  em- 
perors without  a  tragedy,  and  now  has  three  empresses  and  one 
Bismarck. 

Berlin,  with  1,300,000  people,  is  a  grand  cit\',  fit  capital  for 
a  powerful  empire.  I  spent  in  it  the  last  month  of  1852  ;  it 
was  then  a  rather  dull  and  heavy  city  of  400,000  people.  It 
was  not  a  fascinating  town,  and  one  lived  in  it  with  regretful 
memories  of  Paris  and  Vienna.  I  had  a  pleasant  sojourn  in  it, 
however,  and  made  my  first  real  acquaintance  witli  t'.iat,  to  me, 
most  attractive  characteristic  of  the  father-land,  the  '^■ir'it.le,  un- 
pretending home,  with  its  unobtrusive  hospitalit  -  and  'jcnuinc 
warm-hearted  kindliness.  Under  one  roof-tree  w  "e  t!i  ■  lather  and 
mother,  the  son  and  daughter,  and  perhaps  th  5,  '"--  i-' iw  .md 
daughter-in-law,  all  friends  and  ecjuals.  There  w*^-  .he  great 
linen-room,  with  sheets  and  pillow-cases,  to.. els  anu  ''\^''  ,  and 
female  underwear  enough  to  set  up  a  moderate  furnishi;;g  shop, 
all  sweet,  and  smelling  of  fragrant  cleanliness  ;  there  in  another 
room  were  great  baskets  filled  with  soiled  linen.  I  don't  think 
washing-day  came  oftencr  than  once  or  twice  a  year,  when  it  was 
done  in  the  country  by  wholesale,  and  what  a  splashing  and 
beating  there  was  out  by  the  river-side  when  the  first  dirt  was 
thumped  out  w-t-h  paddles.  I  had  seen  it  during  the  summer  in 
the  country.  I  went  with  paterfamilias  and  h'  tlock  to  winter- 
gardens,  where  we  listened  to  mus.  and  at',-  .,Mr  evening  meal. 
Die   gute   mutter   knit   socks   for  little   gr.,;i  nlild,  and   the 

young  daughter-in-law  worked  nanieh  upon  her  cv='  garwients  or 
on  little  odti  fabrics  for  so.ne  one  not  yet  usiiercd  into  this 
breathing  world.     Fraulem    M' dwig   talked    in    low   tones  with 


h\ 


riie  porter 
ise  accom- 
rice  of  the 
r  this  year 
wanted  to 
1.  A  Ger- 
an  beings, 
dignity  of 
/ery  rarely 

man  who 
ble  fixture 
;e.  Willie 
Dr  porters, 
e  born  so. 

fit."  We 
Dur  money 
the  capital 
ichheimcr, 
e,  the  land 
>thcr  kind, 

three  em- 
;s  and  one 

capital  for 
f  1852  ;  it 
)eople.  It 
1  regretful 
jnurn  in  it, 
Kit,  to  me, 
-imt-.le,  un- 
id  genuine 
Lither  and 
I  '  i\v  .ind 
ne  great 
';'•'•  ;  and 
hi;;g  shop, 
in  anotlier 
lon't  think 
'hen  it  was 
ishing  and 
St  dirt  was 
summer  in 
to  wintcr- 
■ning  meal, 
i,  and  the 
irwients  or 
!  into  this 
tones  with 


BERLIN  A  GRAND  CITY. 

Rudolph  to  whom  she  was  betrothed,  and  sometimes  fli,^ir 
hands,  wh.ch  had  become  somehow  fastened  together  Tnderte 
table,  forgot  to  release  the  grasp  when  they  ''came  aW  e 
cloth  ;  and  the  young  American  talked  glibly  ,n  bad  Deutsch  and 
made  many  odd  and  sometimes  offish  mistakes  ;  but  he  would  S' 
reassured  when  he  family  would  tip  beer  glasses,  and  the  brother 
would  call  hnn  alter  Schwcde,"  He  was^rying  to  learn  Gern  a, 
m  those  daj's  and  m.ngled  whenever  he  could  with  the  good 
su-nple-hearted  folks.  I  am  afraid  much  of  this  old-fashfoned 
warmth  has  dcppuedsmce  Berlin  has  become  so  grand,  and  mill- 
ions of  r  rench  gold  nave  got  into  the  land.  For  the  canital  is 
now  a  grand  city;  old  houses  have  been  torn  down  ;  new  streets 
have  been  made;  and  private  residences  are  almost  palatial 
IS  on-  and  then  in  my  walks  I  stumble  upon  quarters  where  old 
buildings  arc  looking  familiar))-  upon  me  and  are  talkin-^  of  Ions 
ago  ;  but  everywhere  new  ones  are  being  wedged  in  am.  ,ict  the 
old  and  m  a  few  years  there  will  be  but  little  left  to  remind  one 
of  the  past,  except  about  the  public  edifices,  which  have  chan<vcd 
out  little.  "" 

Government  seems  to  have  had  sterner  duties  than  erectin<r 
palaces  and  museums.  It  has  been  building  an  empire  Privite 
wealth,  however,  has  not  been  idle,  and  HcVlin  shows  more  indi- 
viduality of  taste  among  its  private  residences  than  any  other  city 
we  have  visited.  St.  Petersburg  is  grand,  but  the  monogram  of 
an  autocracy  seems  to  meet  one's  eye  in  every  fa<^ade  and  on 
every  column.  The  love  of  personal  liberty  pervades  Berlin  and 
shows  itself  in  the  varied  styles  of  its  residences  and  the  exhibi- 
tion of  the  owner's  notions  in  architecture.  In  the  new  quarter 
of  the  town,  south  of  Thiergnrten,  are  miles  of  streets,  some  of 
them  not  much  broader  than  our  wide  alleys,  lined  with  elegant 
houses,  as  varied  in  appearance  as  are  the  characters  of  the  owners. 
One  common  feature,  however,  pervades  the  whole :  all  have 
small  gardens  or  door-yards  in  front,  filled  with  pretty  shrubbery 
and  handsome  trees,  with  trailing  vines  climbing  high  over  the 
walls,  and  with  porches  often  two  stories  high,  and  balconies 
loaded  with  exquisite  (lowers  and  rare  exotics.  These  little  front 
yards  give  a  sufficient  width  between  house  lines  and  prevent  the 
narrow  streets  seeming  too  narrow.  All  yards  are  fenced  off  from 
the  streets  with  light  iron  railings.  The  fashion  which  has  .sprung 
up  in  America  of  leaving  door-yards  open  is  a  bad  one.  It  takes 
away  that  air  of  privacy  which  is  absolutely  necessary  to  a  home. 
I  believe  in  democracy,  but  I  want  my  house  to  be  mine  own, 
into  which  no  one  can  enter  except  by  lifting  the  latch-string ; 
and  my  yard  and  grounds  are  as  much  a  part  of  my  home  as  is 
my  sitting-room.  When  I  sit  in  my  yard  i:i  my  liainmock-chair 
I  am  willing  all  should  see  me  enjoying  my  dolce  far  nientc,  but 
if  any  one  wishes  to  enter,  let  him  come  in  by  the  gate.  It  is  a 
sort  of  snobbery  to  throw  into  the  street  the  house-yard,  and  to 


m 


\    T 


I  !j 

i 


p 


'^■i 


m 


'A'  «J 


V !!  n 


M 


t' 


1    .  ■! 


r-'Hiii; 


i  I 


53° 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


expect  tlict  the  owner's  name  will  throw  about  it  a  noli  me  tan- 
gere  sanctity.  A  light  railing  permits  a  full  view  of  the  hand- 
somest grounds,  but  at  the  same  time  gives  an  air  of  home-like 
privacy.  Perhaps  one  of  the  most  peculiar  features  among  first- 
class  residences  here  are- the  little  shops,  creameries,  green  grocer- 
ies, and  the  like  in  basements  of  the  finest  houses.  They  are 
certainly  a  great  convenience  to  the  residents. 

The  first  thing  we  did  the  morning  after  our  arrival  in  Berlin 
was  to  walk  through  the  great  street,  Unter  den  Linden.  It  was 
not  much  changed  since  1874,  nor  indeed  since  1852.  The  same 
street,  190  feet  broad,  with  its  trafific-ways  on  either  side,  its 
bridle-path,  and  its  broad  foot-ways  under  quadruple  lilies  of 
trees ;  but  the  lindens  looked  stunted  and  sickly.  They  alone  of 
all  things  have  not  thriven  under  the  empire.  How  poor  are 
they  compared  with  the  fresh  and  vigorous  trees  on  Merren- 
hauser  AUee  at  Hanover.  Wc  walked  down  to  Frederick  the 
Great's  statue.  I  never  could  pass  it  without  j)ausing  for  some 
time.  It  had  been  but  lately  erected  when  I  was  first  here  in 
1852.  Never  lifted  in  metal  or  marble  a  more  living,  moving 
horse,  and  Fritz  sits  him  as  a  part  of  him.  I  took  my  first  lesson 
in  properly  sitting  ■•.  si.ddle  from  it,  and  have  often  had  a  quiet 
fancy  that  the  grin,  '^xd  king  sits  thus  through  eternity.  Not  a 
bad  heaven  to  sit  on  such  a  horse  throughout  ctenin'  cons.  I 
hail  thee,  "  Ranch  !  "  Thou  understoodest  tlie  difference  between 
a  tliorough-bred  and  a  plug,  and  well  didst  thou  know  how  to 
mount  thy  royal  rider,  so  that  he  and  his  charger  would  never 
tire.  If  the  government  has  not  cared  to  expend  much  upon 
building  museums  and  palaces,  it  has  not  been  idle  in  filling  those 
it  had  with  noble  works  of  art  ;  and  now  the  student  and  the  con- 
noisseur can  spend  weeks  with  pleasure  and  profit  in  the  galleries 
of  Bclin.  Some  of  the  newer  public  buildings  are  fine,  fhc 
good  oberburgomeister  (first  mayor)  showed  me  through  the  noble 
civic  palace,  the  rathhaus,  and  tendered  me  an  intelligent  gentle- 
man to  carry  me  to  and  through  all  of  the  city  departments. 

It  is  the  boast  of  the  Berliner  that  his  city  is  now  utterly 
impregnable,  yet  once  every  week  the  best  part  of  it  is  absolutely 
taken  possession  of  by  a  peculiar  people.  The  name  "  Unter 
den  Linden  "  should  be  taken  down  each  Saturday  morning  and 
"  Judenstrasse  "  should  be  put  in  its  place,  for  the  Jews  take 
possession  of  it.  Not  Jews  silent  and  melancholy,  as  in  Poland  ; 
not  Jews  squalid,  keen,  antl  crafty,  as  in  Amsterdam  ;  but  well- 
dressed  Jews,  intelligent  Jews,  with  heads  erect,  looking  as  if 
they  knew  and  felt  their  power  and  influence  ;  Jews  out  in  their 
finery,  on  foot  and  in  equipages,  enjoying  the  day  on  which  they 
were  commanded  to  do  no  manner  of  work,  for  on  that  day  the 
Lord  their  God  did  cease  from  his  labors.  They  own  many  of 
the  largest  manufactories  and  works  about  Berlin,  and  live  in 
magnificent   houses.     I   accidentally  visited  their  elegant  syna- 


U  me  tan- 
he  hand- 
lomc-likc 
ong  first- 
Mi  groccr- 
They  are 

in   Berlin 
.     It  was 
The  same 
side,   its 
'   lines  of 
y  alone  of 
poor  are 
1    llerren- 
lerick  the 
for  some 
st  here  in 
^,  moving 
irst  lesson 
id  a  quiet 
Y-     Not  a 
i)  cons.     I 
:e  between 
)W  how  to 
)uld   never 
inch  upon 
lling  those 
id  the  con- 
e  galleries 
fine.      The 
I  the  noble 
;nt  gentle- 
lents. 

)w  utterly 
absolutely 
le  "  Unter 
jrning  and 
Jews  take 
in  Poland  ; 
;  but  well- 
king  as  if 
jt  in  their 
vhich  they 
at  day  the 
•n  many  of 
nd  live  in 
gant  syna- 


THE  JEWS  OE  BERLIX.  j^, 

gogue  when   a  wedding  ceremony  was  being  performed  •   alter 
the  couple  arrived,  the  doors  were  closed  and  nobody  could'  enter 
About  the  altar  were  hot-house  plants,  mostly  green.     Preceded 
by  rabbles  bearing  candles  the  bride  and  groom  mounted  the  steps 
leading  to  the  narrow  altar,  followed  by  eight  or  ten  youn.^  hdies 
all  exquisitely  dressed.     The  bride  was  robed  in  fleecy  white  and 
wore  a  veil  concealing  her  face.     Tiie  groom  wore  his  sleek  hat 
and  all  males  throughout  the  building  kept  on  their  own   for  it 
was  commanded  that  covered  they  should  enter  the  temple  of 
the  Lord.     The  ceremony  was  long— a  half  hour.     At  the  end 
the  ofificiating  rabbi  removed  the  veil,  the  groom  kissed  the  bride 
and  the  knot  was  indissolubly  tied.     I  do  not  think  a  ChicagJ 
divorce  court  could  undo  the  bond  made  by  that  long  ceremony. 
I  saw  the  bride  well  when  she  descended  from  the  altar,  and  so 
very  pretty  was  she  that  I  felt  sure  her  husband  would  never  wish 
again  to  be  free.     It  was  the  God  of  the  Israelites  alone  who  de- 
creed  that   the  woman  should  be    a  helpmeet  to  her  husband. 
Such  order  exists  in  no  other  theocracy,  and  well  has  the  jcwisli 
woman  obeyed  the  mandate.     Among  no  other  religionists  does 
the  wife  so  earnestly  fulfil  her  duties.     .She  assists  the  man  with 
womanly  devotion  ;  she  instils  into  her  children  obedience  to  the 
mandate  "  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother,"  and  under  that 
code  the  child  grows  up  learning  to  obey  before  he  leains  to  or- 
der, and  to  acquire  the  knowledge  purchased  by  the  long  exjjeri- 
ence  of  the  parent.     He  thus  enters  manhood  prepared  to  battle 
through   life  with   the  wisdom  of  the   father.     In   that   lies  the 
secret  of  the  wonderful  success  of  these  people  in  every  walk  of 
life   they  attempt.     The  young  among  the  Jews   do  not  think 
their  fathers  old  fossils,  but  tread  in  the  safe  track  laid  out  by 
experience,  and  improve  upon  it  as  they  march  and  learn.     Chris- 
tianity, springing  out  of  Judaism,  gave  greater  scope  to  freedom 
of  thought  and  of  action.     Rut   the  youth  of  Christendom  too 
often  mistakes  license  for  freedom,  and   imagines  that  it  knows 
all  when  it  has  acquired  the  wisdom  of  books  and  of  the  colleges. 
It  forgets  there  is  a  wisdom  at  home,  unpretentious,  and  often 
uttered  with  unlettered  tongue,  which  is  not  written  in  books  or 
delivered   in   learned   lectures ;  a  wisdom   simple  and    practical, 
homely  and  rough,  which  is  worth  for  the  private  walks  of  life  far 
more  than  all  the  teachings  of  the  schools.     There  are  few  men 
of  50  who  cannot  teach  much  to  the  brightest  boy  of  21.     Tiie 
Jewish  mother  teaches  this  to  her  boy,  and  without  knowing  it, 
plays  the  wise  professor. 

Berlin  is  cut  by  several  canals,  "hich  ^-ears  ago  performed  a 
very  stinking  role.  All  of  this  hav  bei^a  changed.  The  canals 
are  handsomely  walled  up  with  soliJ  quays,  carry  produce  cheaply 
through  many  parts  of  the  city,  a  id  now  instead  of  giving  odors 
which  I  remember  as  being  quite  nasty,  are  entirely  inoffensive. 
Trees  and  turfed  walks  border  tli.-m,  making   pleasant   prom- 


|ii< 


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1^' 


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J'}  (C 


% 


.  r' 


I 

■    \ 
t    I 


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A  HAVE  nirn  the  sun. 


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'. ' 


enades,  and  elegant  residences  loom  up  along  their  lines.  The  pri- 
vate  residences  of  Berlin  and  the  groat  beauty  of  their  floral  adorn- 
ments  evince  decided  taste  among  the  people  ;  but  another  thing 
which  would  not  perhaps  so  strike  most  observers,  also  evinces  tiiis 
growth, — that  is,  the  decorations  about  and  manner  of  goods  dis- 
played in  shop  windows.  Many  of  them  vie  with  those  of  Paris, 
There  is  not,  as  there,  the  lavish  display  of  jewels  and  precious 
stones,  although  these  are  fine,  but  rather  of  articles  dc  vcrtu  and 
small  works  of  art,  many  of  then  of  considerable  merit.  Very  many 
windows  have  busts,  statuettes,  and  pictures,  single  and  grouped, 
of  the  three  emperors  and  their  children.  The  rapidly  succeed- 
ing demises  of  the  two  elder  ones,  coupled  with  their  illnesses 
and  the  sad  surroundings  of  Frederick's  death  have  done  much  to 
endear  the  house  of  Hohenzollern  to  the  people.  This  is  touch- 
ingly  shown  by  the  thousands  who  stop  before  the  imperial 
groups,  and  by  the  kindly  words  then  uttered.  The  }'oung  em- 
peror appeals  most  to  the  people's  hearts  by  the  pictures  showing 
him  fondling  with  his  little  children,  especially  in  one  where  he  is 
kissing  his  little  bab\',  or  throwing  it  into  the  air.  People  dcliglit 
to  know  their  rulers  are  filled  with  home  affections,  and  that 
monarch  and  subjects  have  this  common  bond  between  them. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Wiihelm  is  now  deeply  nestled  in  the 
hearts  of  the  Germans,  and  perhaps  all  the  more  so  because  when 
he  was  three  degrees  removed  from  the  throne  there  was  a  strong 
prejudice  againt  him  ;  it  was  thought  he  was  too  much  imbued 
with  7\nglican  prejudices. 

There  is  one  thing  among  the  Germans  over  here  that  I  do  not 
admire,  and  that  is  a  ridiculous  adulation  of  rank  and  love  of 
titles.  The  great  military  manreuvres  have  been  in  progress,  and 
every  day  imperial  carriages  are  seen  dashing  along  the  Unter  den 
Linden  with  visiting  guests  or  their  attending  officers  going  to  or 
from  the  .station  or  to  some  banquet.  The  thousands  on  the 
streets  stop  and  look  at  them  as  they  pass  as  if  they  were  made 
of  some  new  kind  of  stuff ;  and  it  matters  not  if  the  occupants 
of  the  royal  carriage  be  visitors  or  home  officials,  the  hats  around 
are  rapidly  doffed.  Several  times  I  have  asked  gentlemen  who  I 
saw  were  uncovering,  who  the  occupants  of  the  carriages  were. 
Generally  they  did  not  know.  It  mattered  not  whether  the 
officers  had  won  their  spurs,  or  were  simply  favored  ones,  off  go 
hats.  If  an  imperial  carriage  happens  to  stop  before  a  house 
awaiting  the  egress  of  the  one  who  is  to  ride,  frequently  a  thousand 
people  stop  and  wait  the  great  one's  coming  out.  It  is  pleasant 
to  .see  the  doer  of  great  deeds  or  the  thinker  of  great  thoughts 
honored,  but  it  grates  upon  the  feelings  to  see  one  bowed  to 
simply  because  he  wears  a  title.  And  then  the  way  a  man's 
titles  are  piled  on  when  addressed  is  very  amusing,  especially  in 
provincial  towns.  I  remember  how  this  bothered  me  .some  years 
ago,  when  my  family  was  here.      At  a  semi-literury  dinner  was  a 


wd^': 


I. 


The  pri- 
ral  adorn- 
her  thing 
inccs  this 
joods  dis- 
:  of  Paris. 

precious 

:Yr/it  and 

crj'  many 

^n-ouped, 

'  SLlCCCCd- 

iUnesscs 
:  much  to 
is  touch- 
imperial 
oung  cm- 
s  siiowing 
here  he  is 
le  delii^ht 
and  that 
:en  them, 
led  in  the 
luse  when 
s  a  strong 
li  imbued 

:  I  do  not 
d  love  of 
gress,  and 
Jnter  den 
oing  to  or 
is  on  the 
ere  made 
occupants 
its  around 
len  who  I 
iges  were, 
ether  the 
les,  ofi  go 
:  a  house 
,  thousand 
s  pleasant 
thoughts 
bowed  to 
r  a  man's 
pecially  in 
ome  years 
ner  was  a 


germa:^  love  of  tit/  fk 

doctor  of  laws,  who  was  assistant  professor  of  riictoric      He  v.s 
always  ^ddrossed   as   Herr  Dr.  Assistant  Professor  of  Rhetoric 

addressing  M..  ——-.or  who  left  out  the  word  "  von  "  '     I  mido 

manym.stakesandfinallysettledthematterbytellincnhemrSv 
that  I  was  an  unlettered  Yankee.  They  let  me  get  U  o'th  i^ 
one  t.tle  in  addressing  any  one,  but  I  think  they  veiy  much  p  ie 
my  ack  of  good  form.  I  do  not  wonder  that  kings,  pWncer  nd 
nobles  throughout  the  world  think  tliemselves  made  if  finer'  ma- 
erial  than  that  of  common  men.  The  people  by  their  adida tion 
teach  them  so  to  think.  Socialists  in  Gcnnany  and  Fran  e  a 
at  the  privileged  classes  :  Nihilists  in  Russia  slay  them  ;  but  he 
great  bu  k  of  the  people  sliow  that  they  worship'them,  and  when 
one  master  is  gotten  nd  of.  they  each  pick  up  a  lamp  'and  grope 
about  in  the  dark,  D.ogenes-uke.  trj-ing  to  find,  not  an  honest  m.^ 
but  another  master,  under  whose  feet  they  may  lay  their  necks' 
In  France  there  is  a  republic,  at  least  in  name,  but  true  French 
republicans,  deepl\-  imbued  with  a  genuine  love  of  liberty,  coupled 
at  the  .same  time  with  a  love  of  order  and  good  government  ar. 
hard  to  be  found  among  the  masses.  They  pick  up  a  charlatan 
and  are  ready  to  do  his  bidding  because  lie  someliow  reminds 
them  of  jNapoleon;  and  Ponapartists  and  rovalists  feed  their 
folly,  so  that  they  may  bring  democracy  into  ilfreputc  and  there- 
by pave  the  way  for  monarchy;  and  in  America  madmen  are 
banding  together  ready  to  destroy  the  best  form  of  government 
the  world  ever  knew  because  it  lacks  sometliing  they  have 
dreamed  of  in  their  wild  Utopian  philosophy.  Will  men— can 
men  ever  learn  to  be  wise  enough  to  enjoy  the  good  tiiat  is 
possible  and  to  bear  the  ills  that  are  inevitable?  We  have 
coursed  with  the  sun  around  the  world  ;  we  have  seen  many 
lands  and  many  peoples  ;  we  have  watched  these  latter  and  have 
seen  the  greed  with  which  they  hunger  for  masters,  and  I  some- 
times ask  myself,  did  God's  fiat  go  forth,  when  he  fashioned  man 
from  clay,  that  clay  they  were,  clay  they  would  be,  and  as  clay 
should  be  trodden  upon  ?     Ah  !  what  fools  these  mortals  be  ! 


I 


i 

4 


'  rr  \» 


I 
i 


I 


A 


1 


\\ 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

AI.rNCII"EN  FAMILLK"WrrH  BISMARCK— fllARMINO  HOSPITAL- 
ITY—KINDLINESS  OF  TlIK    I'KINCK— AUTOCiRAPlIS  AND 
I'lIOTOGRAPHS. 


I  f 


'* 


^1 


n  \ 


i'i 


Hamburg,  September  23,  1888. 

Being  in  Berlin,  the  focal  centre  whence  moved  the  forces 
which  unified  a  number  of  comparatively  petty  states  always 
jealous  of  and  often  quarrelling  with  each  other,  into  an  empire 
so  powerful  that  the  courteous  visit  of  its  young  emperor  to  a 
brother  ruler  quiets  the  political  world  and  enhances  the  value  of 
imi)erial  coins,  I  was  naturally  desirous  of  seeing  and,  if  possible, 
talking  with  the  statesman  whose  genius  and  iron  will  wrought 
this  wonderful  transformation.  We  were  told  at  our  legation  and 
by  others  that  the  thing  was  impossible  ;  that  our  minister  had 
seen  Bismarck  but  once,  and  then  only  in  curt  and  most  formal 
manner.  I  resolved  to  dispense  with  diplomatic  assistance,  and 
to  try  individual  resources  which  had  succeeded  so  often  before. 
The  result  was  that  on  the  i8th  of  September  Dr.  von  Rotten- 
burg,  Werklischer  Geheimer  Oberregurungsrath  (virtually  the 
secretary  to  the  chancellorship)  called  at  our  hotel  and  tendered 
me  an  invitation  from  the  chancellor  to  lunch  with  him  at  one 
o'clock  the  following  Saturday,  the  22d,  at  Friedrichsruhe.  The 
Dr.  informed  me  that  this  was  an  unusual  departure  and  insisted 
that  I  be  silent  on  the  matter,  for  others  might  hope  for  a  like 
favor  and  would  thereby  force  the  prince  to  do  an  unpleasant 
thing  by  refusing.  He  advised  me  to  start  at  eight  o'clock  on 
Saturday  morning  and  he  would  telegraph  Count  Rantzau,  the 
chancellor's  son-in-law  and  private  secretary,  to  stop  the  train  for 
me  to  alight.  He  suggested  that  I  go  in  my  usual  traveller's 
dress,  for  the  prince  was  a  very  plain  man,  and  I  would  probably 
see  only  the  family.  I  boarded  the  train  suggested,  expediting 
my  baggage  to  Hamburg,  where  Willie  would  join  me  Sunday 
evening,  he  wishing  to  visit  Potsdam.  For  two  and  a  half  hours 
the  road  ran  through  a  flat  and  uninteresting  country  with 
several  towns  and  villages  and  closely  cultivated.  We  then 
traversed  a  fine  rolling  district,  fairly  well  wooded,  with  pretty 
farm-houses  and  hamlets,  some  chateaux  approached  by  avenues 
of  trees  and  surrounded  by  small  parks  and  a  few  towns  old  and 
quaint.  The-  scenerj'  was  pleasing  rural.  At  12  o'clock  we 
entered  a  large  forest  of  beech,  of  many  thousand  acres,  well 

534 


Ui. 


THOUGHTS  SUGGESTED  BY  BISMARCK'S  NAME     535 

stocked  with  staR  and  other  deer,  and  in  a  half  hour  halted  at 
Fnednchsruhe,  Hismarck's  private  domain,  which  has  been  cut 
out  of  the  great  forest. 

In  writing  this  chapter  I  shall  mention  some    incidents  and 
words  wliich  in  themselves  may  seem  trivial,  but  make  up  a  whole 
which  enabled  me   somewhat  to  look  into   the   home   life  and 
private  character  of  the  man  who,  with  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  make 
the  two  most  remarkable  characters  of  the  19th  century— a  man 
whom  history  will  probably  paint  as  one  of  the  greatest  of  all 
times.     For  over  25  years  Bismarck's  name  has  been  interwoven 
into  the  fabric  which   will   go   down  as  the  history  of  the  old 
world.     In   Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  and  the  far-off  islands  of  the 
boundless  seas,  students,  during  all  this  time,  have  been  forced, 
when  figuring  out  the  destinies  of  men  and  peoples,  to  see  this 
man's  signet  deeply  imprinted  upon  every  chart.     Kings  and  em- 
perors have  lived  and  died  ;  nations  have  arisen  and  others  have 
disappeared  from  the  world's  map ;  but  in  the  biographies  of  the 
men  and  the  annals  of  the  peoples   constantly  appear  indelible 
marks   made  by   the    daring   genius   and   rugged    force   of   this 
uncrowned  autocrat.     While  all  men  have  admired  and  respected 
the  statesman   and   millions  have  hated  him,  few  have  seen  the 
man  and  fewer  still  know  any  thing  of  him  as  a  host,  a  husband, 
and  a  father.     We  read  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and  see  their  heroes 
stalking  across  history's  page  in  flowing    toga   or  accoutred  in 
buckler    and    swoni,    and   arc  almost  surprised    when  we  enter 
their  tombs  or  look  upon  their  votive  tablets  to  find  them  men 
full  of  household  fancies  and  overrunning  with  domestic  affections. 
liismarck,  more  than  any  other  great  modern  character,  is  seen 
and   measured  only   as  a  stern,  relentless,  and  hard   adviser  of 
soldierly  kaisers.     The  world  scarcely  realizes  that  he  has  a  home 
— a  home  with  all  the  sweet  surroundings  of  that  dearest  of  all 
unscntient  things, — and  that  in  it  he  is  a  man  of  loving  heart  and 
full  of  tender  sentiment.     I  was  in  that  house  only  three  hours, 
but  they  were  three  hours  of  revelation.     A  traveller  hears  the 
whinnying  of    an    Arab  horse  when  his  dusky  master  comes  in 
sight,  anci  from  that  inarticulate  greeting  knows  how  kindly  has 
been  the  wild  wanderer  of  the  desert  to  his  dumb  friend.     In  far- 
ofT  Burmah  he  sees  a  crow  steal  rice  out  of  the  bow!  from  which  a 
native  takes  his  frugal  meal,  and  learns  how  deeply  into  the  heart 
of  that  brown-skinned  man    has   sunken  Siddartha's   lesson   of 
charity  to  all  breathing  things.     A  kind  word  and  a  look  of  love 
by  a  man  to  his  wife;  the  gentle  but  familiarly  caressing  touch  of 
a  woman's  hand  upon  her  husband's  arm  ;  the  fond  assistance  of 
a  daughter  to  a  father  in  some  trivial  matter,  and  his  loving  look 
when  he  receives  it  ;  the  easy  familiarity  of  friends  to  one  of  the 
world's  great  ones ;  the  little  nameless  acts  in  free  and  familiar 
life— these  little  things  take  a  man's  heart  out  of  his  impenetrable 
body  and  enable  us  to  read  its  inner  emotions  more  infallibly 


536 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


Vr  ■    M 


^■'■i 


*: 


ff' '    '■ 


111    '1 


w. 


than  would  hours  of  his  hottest  asseverations  as  to  what  that  heart 
contains.  To  enable  my  reader  to  see  the  Iron  Prince  as  I  saw 
him,  in  as  few  words  as  possible  I  will  tell  something  of  what  was 
said  and  done  in  his  house  by  him  and  his  family,  and  what  his 
guest  said  to  bring  out  speech  from  his  entertainers.  Some  things 
I  shall  kejp  back,  for  Prince  Bismarck  treated  me  so  kindly,  and 
what  he  said  was  so  unreserved,  that  some  utterances  might 
possibly  not  have  been  of  a  character  to  be  repeated. 

On  my  alighting  from  the  train,  which  immediately  moved  off, 
a  rather  handsome  young  man,  with  blond  complexion,  walked 
up  and  said  in  perfect  Knglish  :  "  Mr.  Harrison,  I  am  glad  to  see 
you.  I  am  Count  Rantzau."  There  was  an  open  carriage  in 
waiting.  \Vc  drove  to  the  residence,  not  400  yards  away  and 
close  to  the  railroad.  On  learning  tliat  I  spi:';e  a  little  German 
the  count  exprcssetl  pleasure,  for  it  wouUl  enable  me  to  talk  with 
his  mother-in-law,  who  spoke  no  English.  Just  at  the  lodge  gate 
quite  a  number  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  loitering,  the  count 
said  "  with  the  hope  of  seeing  the  poor  chancellor,  who  has  a 
hard  time  getting  rest  and  retirement."  liismarck's  residence 
was,  before  he  acquired  it.  a  sort  of  hotel.  I  think,  in  the  forest 
which  has  for  a  great  while  been  resorted  to  by  Hamburgers.  It 
is  commodious,  utterly  unpretentious,  but  very  home-like.  Its 
interior  is  fitted  up  plainly,  with  none  of  the  fussy  finery  which 
makes  the  modern  rich  man's  house  gaudy  and  artistic  but  utterly 
uncomfortable,  and  forces  the  owner  to  the  smoking-room  or  to 
the  stable  to  find  a  spot  in  wliich  he  can  be  at  ease.  Inside  and 
out  Friedrichsruhe  is  simple,  yet  elegant  in  its  simplicity — a  fitting 
home  for  a  man  who  cares  nothing  for  externals  and  display, 
whose  acts  are  and  have  been  deals  in  the  destinies  of  nations.  I 
was  immediately  taken  by  the  count,  who  soon  after  went  out, 
into  a  moderately-sized  reading-  or  sitting-room,  and  presented  to 
the  Princess  Bismarck,  her  daughter,  the  Countess  of  Rantzau, 
Countess  Stalberg,  nr'i'  Princess  Reuss,  Countess  Eickstedt  von 
Peterswald,  P^raulein  Agnes  Eickstedt,  and  Erau  Oberin  von 
Rentsow,  the  last  four  being  friends  visiting  and  staying  with 
the  family.  My  reception  was  one  of  absolute  cordiality,  indeed, 
as  much  so  as  if  I  had  been  an  expected  friend.  They  spoke  of 
America  and  how  they  should  like  to  visit  it,  and  of  my  long 
journeyings.  All  spoke  good  English  except  the  princess,  who 
unden-tood  it  enough  to  enable  me  to  converse  in  German  freely 
with  her  by  occasionally  interlarding  an  English  word.  She  is  a 
lady  of  pleasing  appearance  and  deportment,  entirely  free  from 
everything  which  could  be  termed  mannerism,  and  full  of  that  air 
which  is  so  attractive  and  winning  in  an  elderly  woman,  and 
which  can  be  described  by  the  simple  term  motherly.  Her 
daughter  is  about  30,  I  should  judge,  full,  plump, — but  not  too 
much  so,  above  medium  height,  with  cheerful  oval  face,  decidedly 
pretty,  and  with  an  expression  of  rare  sweetness.     She  has  several 


'  t 


FIRST  SIGHT  OF  TJJF.  /ROX  PRIXCE.  537 

children.    I  saw  two  of  them,  bright,  rollickhigboys.    Had  I  been 
a   welcome    friend    the    mother   and    daughter   conld    not    have 
treated    me  with   more  simple  kindness  and  unobtrusive  hospi- 
tality throughout  my  entire  visit.     I  had  been  in  the  room  a  few 
minutes    when    the    countess,    looking    out    of    the    wiiKh.w, 
exchumed:  "  Ah   there  comes  papal"  laying  stress  upon  the  last 
syllabic   and  at  the  same  time  leaving  the  front  of  the  window  for 
me.     The  ladies  all  rose  and  stood  somewhat  to  the  side   but  so 
as  to  see  out.     Some   50  or  more  yards  from   the  house  I   saw 
coming  out  of  the  park  wood,  a  man  fully  six  feet  tall,  broad- 
shouldered,  full,  but  not  corpulent,  wearing  a  low-crowned  soft  felt 
hat,  a  full  white  cravat   folded  about  liis  neck  in  old  style,  with- 
out   shirt-collar,    plain    dark   clothes,  ti;e  coat    rather   carelessly 
buttoned— walking    slowly    towards     the    house     with     stately 
measured  strides,  and  accompanied  by  uvo  noble  grcxhounds,  fat 
and   dignified,  keeping  by  his  side  with  such  even 'step  that  I 
could   almost  fancy  they  were  measuring  their  gait  b\-  that  of 
their  master.     I  looked  at  him  silently  until  he  was  within  a  few 
feet  of  the  house.     I  noticed  that  his  daughter  was  watching  my 
face  intently,  and,  I  fancied,  almost  anxi()usly.     I  said  half^as  if 
in  soliloquy:  "He  will   be  able  to  keep    Russia  and  Austria  at 
arm's  length  for  years  to  come."     A  glow  of  pleasure  spread  over 
the  daughter's   face.     I   then  understood   the  expression  I  had 
noticed  a  few  moments  befo>-e.     She  had  been  watching  me  to 
see  how  his  physical  appearance  affected  me.     lie  soon  entered 
the  room,  shook  hands  with  me  almost  warmly,  saying  he  was 
glad  I  had  come,  for  I  had  done  good  service,  and  he  was  pleased 
to  tell  mc  that  he  and  all  lovers  of  law  were  indebted  to  me.     I 
at  once  understood  whj'  he  had  done  me  the  honor  of  inviting 
me  to  his  house.     The  princess  repeated  what  I  had  said  of  his 
;Urcngth.     He  said  he  was  glad   I  thought  so  well  of  his  powers. 
After  a  few  moments  spent  in  his  telling  the  ladies,  who  were 
interested  listeners,  of  his  walk   in  the   forest,  which  had   been 
somewhat  extended,  he  offered  his  arm  to  the  Countess  Stalberg. 
The  princess  placed  her  1  ..u''  upon  my  arm.     We  followed  her 
husband  to  the  breakfast  r      a.     Bismarck  took  the  head  of  the 
table,  with  Countess  Stalberg  at  his  right,  Count  Rantzau  at  the 
foot,  the  princess  and  her  daughter  sitting  opposite  each  other  on 
the  middle  sides,  the  other  ladies  between  them  and  the  foot,  and 
I  between  the  prince  and  princess.     The  dining-room  was  hand- 
some, but  plain.     The  breakfast  consisted  of  tenderloin  steaks, 
cutlets,  cold  meat,  and  omelets,  with  red  and  white  wines,  fol- 
lowed by  black  coffee,  and  was  finely  prepared.     Conversation  at 
once  became  lively  and  wholly  free,  and  was  carried  on  in  German 
and  in  English,  which  the  prince  at  first  spoke  with  a  little  hesi- 
tation, but  afterwards  with  fluency  and  purity,  and  with  slight 
accent.     When   I  spoke  in  German  and   hesitated    for  a  word 
Countess  Rantzau  frequently  came  to  my  relief  in  most  charming 


1 


>| 


H 


l\ 


i 


r 


538 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\j    li 


w. 


manner.  In  this  way  the  princess  and  I  weru  enabled  to  keep  up 
our  sliare  of  the  tallcin^.  In  rej)!)-  to  fl  e  (piestion  as  to  tiie  wine 
I  preferred,  I  said  I  was  fortunate  in  liking  all  pure  wines,  but  I 
found  certain  kinds  had  a  tendency  to  cause  a  i;outy  thickening 
of  my  finjjers.  "So  they  do  with  me,"  said  tiie  prince,  at  the 
same  time  holdiii}^  up  both  hands  and  working  his  fingers  by 
openiii}^  and  shuttiuL;  them,  addiny;  that  he  had  not  much  faith  in 
doctors,  but  that  his  understood  liis  case,  and  interdicted  any  but 
white  wine,  and  of  that  very  sparingly;  that  he  was  very  fond  of 
old  hock,  but  it  did  not  go  well  with  him  now,  and  lie  was  forced 
to  drink  a  newer  one,  and  then  only  at  dinner.  Socialism  was 
spoken  of.  The  prince  showed  his  hostilitj'  to  it,  but  thought  wc 
wouUl  not  suffer  from  it  in  America,  for  our  great  political  parties 
made  no  alliances  with  it.  1  said  that  they  voted  for  members  of  one 
or  the  other  parties,  that  "  at  one  of  my  elections  they  had  votetl 
largely  for  me."  "  Is  that  so?  Then  you  were  very  ungrateful." 
I  said  he  was  mistaken  ;  that  we  got  some  ^od  reforms  from  them, 
and  he  should  not  confound  the  socia'  with  us  with  the  an- 
archists. Tliat  they  came  together  and  'th  the  .same  machine 
when  the  eight-hour  movement  was  inaugurated;  that  soci.ilism 
with  us  was  not  radical  as  in  (iermany,  ami  could  not  become 
'Jangerous,  because  the  poor  man  accpiiring  properlj-  soon  became 
conservative.  "  Ves,  I  know,"  he  rejoinecl,  "  but  the  leaders  are 
innatelj'  bad,  and  only  want  to  gain  for  themselves,  and  care  not  for 
the  cost  ;  and  many,  possibly  the  bulk,  of  the  followers  were  simply 
blind  !  "  During  the  l)reakfast  I  endeavored  to  bring  up  as  many 
topics  as  possible,  and  1  think  the  Chancellor  saw  my  intent,  and 
assisted  me  by  readily  going  from  one  subject  to  another.  The 
princess  turned  the  conversation  to  my  travels.  I  said  :  "  I  had 
been  many  times  in  iuuope.  Had  seen  Mt.  IManc,  and  had  gone 
to  Asia,  and  had  seen  Mt.  Everest.     I  had  been  to  the  Caucasus 

to  sec   KIbruz,  and  was  now  ir,   Germany  " I  paused,  which 

caused  all  to  look  up  at  me,  wh  jn  I  added —  "  to  see  Bismarck." 
The  ladies  laughed  and  applauded.  He  bowed  with  an  amused 
smile.  1  told  him  how  much  good  my  travels  had  done  me,  and 
suggested  to  him  the  propriet}'  of  his  going  around  the  world. 
He  .said  "he  was  too  old  and  had  too  much  to  do;  that  he  be- 
longed to  his  country,  and  that  as  long  as  it  demanded  his  ser- 
vices he  could  not  think  of  rest  "  I  told  him  I  had  found  great 
rcla.xation,  when  the  cares  of  office  were  pressing,  by  going  to  the 
circus  or  the  minstrels,  where  I  could  laugh.  "Ah!"  said  he, 
grimly,  "  the  newspapers  afford  me  comedy  enough."  "  Yes,"  I 
rejoined,  "and  I  see  they  charge  you  with  inconsistency  because 
you  claim  a  freeman's  right  to  change  your  mind."  "  C)f  course 
I  change  my  mind  when  I  find  I  have  been  wrong,  and  I  also  yield 
my  opinions  when  I  find  others  differing  from  me  wlio  have  equal 
rights  with  me.  I  have  no  right  to  set  up  my  opinions  against 
those  of  all  others,  even  when  I  am  certain  that  I  am  right."     I 


% 


■\l   BISMARCK'S  TAIILE. 


mniscii  up  aiui  sam  :  "Ai.-.  I  lanisoii,  my  sovereigns  have  always 
demaiuleil  my  services,  for  tliey  knew  1  was  ever  ready  to  retire  ; 
I  have  been  but  tiie  people's  servant."  I  told  him  of  our  heariii'f 
of  Emperor  iMcderick's  death  at  Vladikavkas,  ami  I  was  pleased 
by  the  re^i^r.  i  expressed  by  officers  we  met  on  the  mountains 
«'  A  1,    ,.„L- "■..,;, 1    u;...v< 1 4i.„..  1   .•     11      ..  .,        ,     ■        ..' 


.,    ...^   .^j^.    .    V..., ,^v.   ,,_>    wiiitv.1.-,  «i.  HILL  o[i   uie  moumains. 

'Ah,  yes,"  said  l^ismarck  rather  sardonically,  "they  had  an  idea 
he  would  chanf,^e  liis  father's  policy.  In  that  they  were  mistaken." 
Speaking'  of  a  distinguished  man  whom  I  liked',  he  said  :  "  lie  is 
amiable  enoui;h,  but  a  fool  in  politics  ;  a  bad  politician,  and  ijave  us 
any  amount  of  trouble."  "  You  believe,  then,  in  such  a  thi'n^'  as  a 
ijood  politician?"  "  \Vh)-.  certainly  I  do.  No  man  can\e  a 
successful  statesman  unless  he  be,  too,  an  astute  politician."  A 
paper  just  cn^nossed  (I  now  suspect  the  memorial  presented 
three  da\'s  afterwards  to  the  emperor,  un^iuf^  the  prosecution  of 
I'rof.  Cieffcken)  was  laid  on  the  table.  He  said:  "You  sec,  Mr. 
Mayor,  1  am  down  here  in  retirement  and  yet  I  iiave  to  work. 
I  have  not  failed  to  work  a  sin_i,de  day  in  20  oiid  years."  The 
Princess  interjected:  "  l'\)r  2(1  years."  "Yes,  for  36  years  not 
a  single  tlay."  "  Let  me  su^f^rest  that  your  Ilir^hncss  take  a  rest  and 
travel  incc\i;iiito."  He  rejoined:  "  I  don't  know,  I  have  been  too 
busy  ;  I  am  afraid  I  could  not  bear  the  rust."  "  And,"  I  interjected, 
"  a  little  afraid,  also,  to  be  where  you  cannot  have  your  finder 
in  the  Eu'-opcan  pie."  He  smiled  at  the  sally,  but  the  ladies  all 
lauglied  heartily,  and  Countess  Stalberg  added  "  '''' 
be  a  poor  affair  if  his  fingers  were  out  of  it." 


'  The  pie  woukl 

^^  ..  ,-„ j,^.„  ..^.w  —  „.  ...       I  said  I,  too,  had 

feareil  rust,  and  to  iirevent  it  had  written  very  largely  of  what  I 
liad  seen — that  it  was  sometimes  hard  labor  and  yet  a  rest  from 
the  past,  and  then  told  him  that  Dr.  von  Rottenberg  had  enjoined 
upon  me  silence  as  to  this  visit,  but  that  I  hoped  he  would  release 
mc  from  the  obligation  ;  that  our  people,  and  particularly  my 
German  friends,  would  be  delighted  to  hear  of  what  I  saw  and 
heard  at  his  table.  "Well,  yes,  I  suppose  so";  adding  that  the 
doctor  did  not  wish  him  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  others  by  refus- 
ing to  sec  them,  but  that  he  wished  to  see  me  because  I  had 
helped  to  bring  the  anarchists  to  justice.  I  laughed  and  told 
him  the  political  papers  had  bitterly  attacked  me  because  I  had 
not    arrested   them    in   advance  when   they  made   their  violent 


W 


■  A 

4 


I" 


V  * 


H' 


540 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


f  .^Jirifei 


" 


5.) 


W: 


11 


speeches,  and  thus  to  have  prevented  the  Haymarket  crime.  He 
quickly  said  :  "  You  did  just  right ;  you  were  not  afraid,  but  you 
struck  at  the  proper  momtnt."  He  evidently  was  familiar  with 
that  bitter  night.  He  then  inquired  particularly  about  the  acts 
of  the  authorities  after  the  terrible  crime,  and  I  saw  that  he  did 
not  agree  with  me  in  drawing  abroad  line  between  the  anarchists 
and  socialists.  I  told  him  I  had  been  present  when  VVilhclm  had 
landed  at  Peterhof,  and  how  I  had  been  impressed  with  his  bear- 
ing, and  that  Petcrsburgers  were  flattered  by  his  driving  about 
unattended  by  guards,  and  that  1  thought  the  czar  made  a  mis- 
take in  showing  a  want  of  confidence.  He  exclaimed:  "Yes,  his 
father  showed  confidence  anil  got  killed  for  it."  The  princess 
interjected  :  "  Poor  man  !  I  do  not  wonder  that  he  feels  uneasy." 
"They  have  a  bad  habit  in  Russia,"  said  the  prince,  "  a  bad  liabit 
of  trying  to  kill  kings — since  Peter  the  Great's  time  they  have 
run  that  way."  I  tcld  him  how,  during  the  anarchist  troubles,  I 
had  received  letters  written  in  blood,  but  that  wholly  unattended 
I  had  ridden  in  the  most  excited  districts.  "  Yes,  yes,  but  yon 
were  in  America  and  among  Americans,  and  not  in  Russia."  I 
spoke  of  the  well-dressed  people  about  his  gate  waiting  to  get  a 
peep  at  him.  He  said  :  "  He  was  a  worker  and  did  not  like  to 
make  a  show  of  Iiimseif,  and  that  when  the  emperor  wa>  visiting 
Fricdrichsruhc  a  few  weeks  before,  crowds  of  i)eople  came  on  tlie 
road  hoping  to  see  him,  but  th.at  he.  too,  said  he  had  latch-  IkkI 
cnougii  of  that  kind  of  thing."  When  coffee  and  cigars  came 
on  I  laughingly  exclaimetl  :  "  \Vc  in  America  think  that  Bismarck 
knows  the  American  hog,  and  that  if  V"  lets  it  get  over  the  fron- 
tier it  will  stay  at  the  German  table,  but  that  perhaps  he  did  not 
know  the  .American  man  so  well  that  when  one  gets  to  Prince 
Bismarck's  table  he  wouKl  never  know  wiien  to  le.ive."  He 
laughed  heartily  and  explained  the  pork  cjuestion  to  the  ladies, 
who  at  first  looked  rather  shocked  at  the  first  part  of  the  joke. 
He  then  said  he  wouUl  have  to  go  to  work  shortly,  but  he 
would  give  me  all  the  tin"  :  he  possibly  could.  I  told  him  that 
I  hail  to  disobey  Dr.  von  Rottenberg's  injunction  by  telling  my 
son,  who  was  travelling  with  me,  of  my  visit,  but  that  Willie  told 
me  to  say  .o  him  that  his  constant  silence  and  eternal  gratitude 
could  be  had  if  the  prince  would  write  a  line  and  sign  his  name 
to  it.  He  laughed  at  the  young  man's  device  to  get  his  autograph. 
He  said  he  miglit  possibly  write  his  name  but  not  the 
line.  I  added  we  might  then  put  a  dangerous  line  over  the 
name.  "  I  see,  it  might  be  a  due-bill,  but  we  will  block  that 
game.  Tell  your  son  if  he  will  hang  an  anarchist  I  will  write  an 
autograph  letter  to  him."  He  then  had  some  photographs 
brought  to  the  table  and  selected  a  large  one  and  wrote  his  name 
under  it  and  the  date,  saying:  "  Keep  that  to  remind  you  of  this 
pleasant  day."  The  princess  took  it  from  me  and  enclosed  !•:  in 
an   envelope.      I   said  to  her:  "Now,   will   not  your    Highness 


ime.     He 
I,  but  you 
iliar  with 
:  the  acts 
lat  he  did 
anarchists 
Ihclm  liad 
1  his  bear- 
ing about 
ide  a  mis- 
"  Vcs,  his 
•i  princess 
i  uneasy." 
bad  habit 
:liey  have 
roubles,  I 
iiattended 
s,  but  you 
ussia."      I 
g  to  Ljet  a 
lOt  like  to 
as  visitiiiii" 
me  on  the 
ately  had 
i;ars  came 
Hisniarck 
the  Tron- 
ic did  not 
to   Prince 
ve."     He 
U'  ladies, 
the  joke, 
but    he 
lini   that 
llin^  my 
iVillie  told 
gratitude 
lis  name 
uto^rapli. 
not    the 
over  the 
ock  that 
write  an 
itographs 
his  name 
3U  of  this 
osed  :♦:  in 
Hifrhness 


TABLE-TALK. 


541 


write  your  nanie  also  across  the  envelope  'r  "     She  did  so    and  I 
handed  it  to  him  saying:  "  If  you  will  now  put  your  name  under 
it   I   will  have  Bismarck  properly  dominated   bv  his  wife  "     He 
laughingly  did   so,  saying:  -That  is  the   uavthc  world  over." 
He  handed  the  paper  to  his  daughter,  who  wrote  her  name  under 
his,  and   then  the   count  signed  under  his  wife.     All  were  de- 
lighted  at  my  thus  getting  t^vo  autographs  from  the  prince,  who 
is,   I   learn,   very  averse  to  giving  them.      The  princess  had  not 
permitted  the  pen  (a  new  quill)  he  wrote  with,  to  be  used  by  any 
other.     She  handed  it  to  me  with  the  remark  :  "  It  never  wrote 
but  one  name,  and  that  but  once.     Keep  it  as  a  souvenir  of  this 
visit."     She  then  sent  out  for  a  beautifully  bound  small  auto- 
graph   album,    and    requested    me    to  write    my    name    in    it. 
The  album  was  about  a  third  full— a  couple  of  pages  before  the 
one  I  wrote  on  was  the  name  of  Count  Kalnocky,  the  Austrian 
prime-minister,  who  had  been  at  Friedriclisruhe' for  three  days 
and   had   left   the  day  before,  and  I  think  of  Signer  Crispi,  the 
Italian   premier,   and   other  distinguished   men.  '   I    turned   the 
Ica/es  back  a  page  or  two  and  read  the  signature  of  Wilhelm  II. 
Furihcr  back  was  that  of  the   Emperor  Frederick,  and  near  the 
first  page  that  of  the  old  Kaiser  Wilhelm.     I  rcmaiked  that  my 
name  would  in  such  company  go  down  to  history.     She  replied  : 
"  As  long  as  the  Bismarck  family  lives."      She  then  told  me  to 
write  the  tlate  under  my  name  tliat  she  might  have  a  souvenir  of 
this  pleasant  day,  and  exacted  a  promise  that  I  should  send  her 
my  photo  f'om  Hamburg.     FVaulcin  Eickstcdt  brought  a  fan  for 
in\'  autogiaph.     On  one  leaf  was  Count  Kalnocky's,  but  no*^  Bis- 
marck's.    I  suspected  that  she  wished  him  to  write  his  now  while 
he  was  in  so  generous  a  mood.     S'^-'ing  that  the  prince  did  not 
smoke  I  ex[>ressed  some  surprise,  for  I   had  alwaj's  heard  he  vas 
devoted  to  the  weed.     He  said  he  had  been  forced  to  give  up 
cigars,  though  very  fond  of  them — that  for  many  years  he  smoked 
almost  constantly  ;  he  would  throw  away  his  cigar  on  going  to  bed, 
and  would  reach  out  for  one  immediately  on  waking;  that  he  was 
now  75  years  t)ld  .ind  had  to  be  careful.     He  smoked  a  pipe  with 
light  Deutsch  tobacco  after  dinner.    I  said  I  was  63,  and  a  rather 
hard  .ider,  but  I  feared  I  was  smoking  too  much.    "  Oh,"  said  the 
prince,  "  when  I  vas  63  nothing  hurt  me,  and  I  rode  20  miles  every 
day  on  horseb.-^ck,  and  smoked  all  the  time."     Speaking  of  rest, 
he  said  his  b  >t  rest  was  lying  easily  in  a  room  all  to  himself. 
"  Ves,"  I  interjected,  "  and  keeping  your  brain  at  hard  labor." 
He   laughed  ami  went  on:  "Or  walking  in  the  park  or  forest, 
listening  to  the  birds  sing  and  the  winds  s,ently  sighing  among  the 
branches."     "That  is  a  new  phase  in  jour  Highness'  character. 
The  world  does  not  dream  that  IMsmarck  is  poetical  and  senti- 
mental."    "  I'uU  of  both,"  he  repliei',  "  but  especially  of  senti- 
ment."    He  told  me  his  forest  was  thiee  miles  long  and  about  four 
wide,  and  so  stocked  with  deer  that  they  were  proving  destructive 


.». 


vi 


% 


•I 


M'J^ 


^   >Wl 


u 


til 


Ml 


V' 


h 


!      1 


542 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


iiii): 


w.   \h 


w:i 


to  the  trees  ;  that  he  never  shot  now,  but  was  at  one  time  very 
fond  of  the  sport ;  but  at  73  he  was  forced   to  give  up  his  old 
hock,  his  cigars,  and  to  give  the  deer  a  free  forest.     1  asked  the 
princess  if  she  never  indulged  in  a  cigarette.     With  a  gesture 
of  amused  horror,  she  said  :    "Oh  no."     I  apologized  by  sajing 
that    the    last    princess   I    had  the  honor  of  talking  with  blew 
cigarette  smoke  from  her  rosy  lips,  and  named  her.     "  Hut  she 
comes  by  that  naturally,"  said  the  prince,  "  for  though  a  Ger- 
man princess  she  was  a  Russian  by  birth,  and  a  decided  beauty." 
They  then  spoke  very  kindly  of  the  lady,  whom  he  and  the  prin- 
ces.-; had  known  in  Russia  years  ago  when  unmarried.    I  saw  that 
the  iron  m-:iii  was  of  melting  metal  when  woman's  beauty  was  in 
question.     This,  too,  was  further  shown  by  his  gentle  tones  and 
manner  to  a  very  pretty  young  Jewe.ss,  Fraulein  Alexander,  from 
Hamburg,  who  with  her  mother  had  called,  and  by  che  prince's 
request  had  been  shown  into  the  breakfast-room  just  as  the  table 
was  being  vacated.       Something  said  cau.sed  me  to  acknowleilge 
that  I  acted  under  a  very  heterodo.x  maxim,  especially  in  executive 
matters, — that  is,  never  to  do  to-day  what   I  can  put  off  until   to- 
morrow.   "  Vou  are  right,"  he  said  ;  "  it  might  have  been  a  nia.xim 
of  mine,  for  I  have  acted  up  to  it.     Each  day  brings  its  full  duties 
and  enough  of  them.     Perform  them  well,  and  then  wait  for  the 
next  day  to  do  the  things  then  necessary."      I  added  that  I  had 
found  the  next  day  often  brought  new  and  valuable  light,  and 
besides   the    necessity    for  prompt  action  ofttimes  focalizes  the 
energies  of  the  brain.      His  reply,  which  was  extended,  expressed 
thorough  acquiescence  in  the  proposition.     In  reply  to  a  que.stion 
as  to  the  number  of  my  children,  I  said  :  "  I  have  four,  but  have 
lost  several  little  ones."    "  We,  too,"  said  the  Prince,  "  have  buried 
a  child,"  or   children,  I   forget  which.     One  of  the  lady  visitors 
seemed  surprised  at  this  ;  and  then  he  and  the  princess  spoke  very 
feelingly  of  their  lost  little  ones.     Bismarck's  countenance  when  in 
conversation  iights  up  greatly,  and  his  smile  is  verj-  pleasant,  but 
the  whole  face  drops  back  very  quickly  to  one  of  rather  ."severely 
reflective  cast.     His  manner  at  the  table  was  easy  and  affable, 
almost  gentle,  and  there  were  nameless  little  things  which  revealed 
a  .softness  in  his  character  that  I  had  imagined  he  lacked  even  in  his 
home  life.      1  have  given  only  a  few  of  the  things  that  he  said  or 
were  said  to  him  directly;  all  at  the  table  joined  in  the  general 
talk,  which  was  absolutely  free  from  all  restraint  or  conventionality. 
So   kind   and    unobstrusive   was   the  hospitality  of  all,  tiuit  one 
lookir.g  on,  and  not  knowing  our  respective  positions,  woulil  have 
thought  that  I  was  an  honoring  guest  instead  of  being  the  honored 
one.      We  were  at  table  not  far  from  two  hours,  a  very  unusual 
thing  for  her  father,  the  countess  said, — "that  is,  unusual  for  .1 
breakfast."      Had  the   Prince  been   utterly  unknown  to  me,  that 
breakfast  would  have  made  me  pronounce  him  a  most  genial  host,  a 
kind  husband,  and  an  affectionate  father.     At  table  all  paid  most 


:i^ 


\v\ 


a\ 


mmmm 


BISMARCK  THE  IVOA'KER.  543 

respectful  attention  to  his  every  word,  t'.ic  attention  on  the  part 
of  the  v.sitins;  ladies  bein^r  that  of  idolatry,  that  of  his  wife  and 
daughter  of  devotion.      When  he  left  to  go  to  his  workroom  he 
expressed  regret  that  he  could  not  give  me  more  time  but  tint 
for  the  next  two  or  more  hours  he  did  not  belong  to  himself 
I  told  him  how  much   I  had  enjoyed  mv  visit,  and  ended  with- 
"  Keep   Europe   in   peace  and  the  world   will  be  your  debtor  " 
"  That  IS  my  end  and  hope.   Good-bye  1  a  ])leasant  vova-e,  and  safe 
return  to  your  home  and  faniil\-."     I  stood  as  \w  walked  off  with 
his  private  secretary,  antl  although  I  am  never  grcatlv  impressed  by 
rank  and  high  station,  I  was  almost  awed  by  "that  retreating  mass 
of  brain  and  will-power.     So  much  had  the  man's  kindlv  inner  self 
been  revealed,  that  unconsciousl)-  1  felt  as  if  parting  from  a  friend. 
The  princess  and  her  guests  went  out  upon  a  veranda,  bidding  me 
good-bye,  and  leaving  me  with  the  Countess  Rantzau,  who  wished 
to  get  me  the  family  photogniphs.     To  her  cpiestion  as  to  when  I 
would  again  be  in  Europe,  I  replied  not  before  two  or  three  years, 
when  my  youngest  daughter  would  be  out  of  school.    After  inquir- 
ing about  her,  she  said  :  "  Tell  her  to  get  her  German  well  up  and  to 
come  over  to  pay  us  a  visit ;  you  will  bring  her,  will  you  not  ?  "    To 
my  expression  oi  pleasure  at  the  kind  and  hearty  invitation,  she 
told  me  she  was  glad  I  had  come,  that  it  had  pleased  her  father, 
and   had  been  a  re-^t  to  him.  and  added  that  1  luul  gotten  from 
him  what  she  was   ifraid  to  ask  for  herself,— his  autographs,  which 
were  desireil  by  some  of  her  frie^nds.     1  laughingly  said  :      I  gen- 
erally get  what  I  j)articularly  want."     She  said:  "  It  .seems  so,  for 
we  were  .1        'rprised  when  he  broke  over  his  rules  by  inviting  you 
to  breakfa.-^i.        When   I   liade  the  charmin;j  l.i^ly  gootl-bye  her 
manner  was  as  unaffecl'  dly  warm  and  kiiu!  as  if  I  had  been  an 
elderly  relation.      1  eil  to  the  station.       The  local  train  was 

made  up  there  for  Ilaiiibu'-r.  I  h.id  I  <  w  seated  in  the  car  for  a 
few  moments  when  I  saw  tlie  countess  w.ilking  r.ipidly  towards  us. 
As  soon  as  she  saw  me  she  called  out:  "  .Mamma  says  she  did  nut 
sufficiently  tell  you  good-bye.  She  is  coining  to  do  so."  Sure 
enough,  there  was  the  aged  lady,  with  Countess  Stalberg,  walking 
([uite  rapidh",  followed  b)'  a  man  1 'iiwing  a  small  carriage  chair.  I 
went  to  meet  her.  She  told  me  she  thought  I  was  coming  out 
u[)on  the  veranda,  and  was  surprised  to  learn  that  I  was  gone. 
She  had  wished  to  tell  me  good-bye  and  >  wish  me  a  safe  voyage 
home,  and  hojied  I  would  find  nr  .dren  all  well.  She  also 
wanted  to  tell  nie  to  be  sure  and  u  ,  loiget  my  photograph  from 
Hamburg.  She  stood  some  time  by  the  car  talking  with  that 
warm-hearted  self-forgetful  manner  rarely  seen  so  well  marked  as 
in  a  well-born  German  woman.  I  asked  her  how  long  she  had 
been  married.  She  said  41  years.  "  Then  in  nine  years  1  will 
drink  the  health  of  your  Highness  and  the  Prince  when  you  cele- 
brate your  golden  wedding."  "  Would  you  come  to  our  golden 
wedding  if  you  should  be  in  Europe  ?"     "  Yes,  indeed,  and  from 


I 

I 


i, 

M  ■ 

\ 

■I  2 


^  I 


544 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


iii 


America  too."  "  Then,"  said  she,  "  you  must  come.  Consider 
yourself  invited.  You  arc  the  only  one  I  have  yet  asked."  Her 
manner  showed  that  she  was  talking  from  her  warm  heart.  Her 
daughter  quickly  added :  "  And  to  the  diamond  wedding  too." 
"Oh,  I  fear  I  will  not  last  that  long,"  "  Yes,  you  will;  papa  and 
mamma  are  older  than  you,  and  they  are  going  to  live  for  their 
diamond  wedding."  Just  then  the  bell  rang.  With  warm  shaking 
of  hands  I  left  them.  As  I  stepped  into  the  car  the  Countess 
Stalberg  cried  out:  "  Remember,  Mr.  Harrison,  there  is  but  one 
Everest  and  one  Bismarck."  I  replied:  "That's  true.  Good-bye! 
many  long  and  happy  years  to  you  all."  Thus  ended  a  most 
charming  visit,  charming  not  simply  in  that  it  was  to  the  home  of 
one  of  the  world's  great  men,  for  if  he  had  been  but  a  plain  man 
the  kindl)"  hospitality  of  himself  and  wife  and  daughter,  the 
marked  disposition  to  make  every  thing  pleasant  to  the  temporary 
guest,  a  disposition  so  unobtrusive  that  it  was  not  observed  at  the 
time,  but  is  recalled  with  a  species  of  surjirise  ;  the  free  and  genial 
manners  of  the  laui-.'s  who  were  regular  guests  in  the  house  ; — these 
things  made  my  visit  one  to  be  remembered  with  genuine  i^leasure. 
Added  to  this  was  the  presence  of  a  man  who  is  and  has  been  for 
nearly  a  third  of  a  century  playing  upon  a  board  where  real  kings, 
bishops,  castles,  knights,  and  breathing  pawns  have  been  the  men, 
all  pushed  back  and  forth  at  his  will — and  as  if  they  were  but 
blocks  of  ivory  and  wood  in  his  hand, — this  man  for  the  time  being 
no  longer  one  of  the  world's  great  ones,  but  simply  the  kind  hus- 
band, the  gentle  father,  and  the  agreeable  host,  and  for  the  time 
being  also  so  acting  and  so  acted  to  that  his  inner  self,  the  man,  was 
being  more  or  less  revealed. 

W'e  can  measure  and  weigh  the  force  of  the  sun's  rays  in  any 
region  by  stud)ing  the  fibre  and  color  of  plants  and  flowers;  so, 
too,  can  we  measure  and  weigh  the  heart-forces  of  a  strong,  brainy 
man, — a  man  of  great  nerve-power,  by  studying  the  tone  and 
bearing  of  tliose  constantly  in  intimate  association  with  him.  If 
his  heart  be  utterlvcold  orahvavs  locked  within  himself,  the  effect 
upon  those  about  him  is  analogous  to  that  of  sunlight  denied  to 
animals  and  plants.  Fishes  and  insects  live  in  great  caves,  but  are 
blind  and  colorless.  Plants  ii.  dark  vaults  grow,  but  are  dcvoiil  of 
every  tint.  I  watched  the  wife  and  daughter  of  Bismarck.  The 
helianthus  looks  not  more  readily  to  the  morning  sun,  or  follows 
him  ifiore  earnestly  throughout  the  clay,  than  do  these  two  women 
follow  the  husband  and  father  in  look  and  .iction — follow  him  with 
loving  devotion.  Were  he  at  home  and  in  his  family  t!-o  stern, 
relentless  man  his  public  life  makes  him  thought,  these  ladies 
would  have  had  the  fountains  of  their  hearts  more  or  less  dried 
up.  They  would  not  have  shown,  at  least  in  his  presence,  the  warm 
kindliness  I  .saw  displayed.  Had  he  been  the  hard  autocrat  at  home, 
his  presence  would  li  ive  been  a  source  of  coiistraint,  and  would 
have  thrown  about  him  an  atmosphere  of  chilliness  ;  but  there  was 


DEVOTION  OF  HIS  FAMILY.  ^ 

wi.Aedtohear  isuord  H.  '^"^1  respect  of  those  who  really 
towards  each  ot  er  and  as  much '^  l^'"^  '''"'.  ""'"affectedly  kindly 
had  I  been  do  n  '  'the,r,  ,  Zo  Z  """  "'  '^''X  '""'^^  ^'^^'^  ^^'^^^ 
wrong  in  thinki.rg  t^^i^  di^ctlv  .L  h"'"^^  1°  }''  ^'T''  ^"^  ^ 
read  something  of  the  m  W.  l/    .       T'>'''  those  about  him  I 

much  natural  w\rnul'anrgent!enSr'  ^°""'  '^  ^°  '^^  ^"'^  °^ 


if 


if 


f  ^1 


CHAPTl.il   L. 

HAMBURG— AN  INTERESTING  CITV— QUAINT    HANOVER— LEAN-TO 
OLD  HOUSES— RUN  TO  FRANKFORT— THE   RHINE. 

Brussels,  September  30,  1888. 

Hamburg  is  a  very  beautiful  city.  A  fine  lake  spreads  itself 
in  the  very  heart  of  the  town,  along  whose  borders  are  charming 
walks,  bright  cafes  and  noble  buildings.  Canals  cut  the  city  in 
many  directions,  from  out  of  whose  waters  lift  quaint  old  houses 
with  sharp,  gabled  roofs,  of  four  and  five  stories,  each  upper  one 
projecting,  on  brackets,  one,  two,  or  more  feet  over  the  one  be- 
low, looking  as  if  they  were  trying  to  meet  each  other  about  the 
sky's  line  over  the  narrow  canals.  In  the  centre  of  the  gable, 
high  up  near  the  roof-comb,  project  beams  from  which  suspend 
on  pulleys  long  ropes  to  hoist  goods  from  water  barges  to  big 
folding-doors  in  the  centre  of  each  story.  Into  these  doors  en- 
tered the  wealth  of  many  'ands  when  the  city  was  so  rich  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Hanseatic  League.  The  same  old  blackened  beam 
projects,  but  newer  cordage  now  lifts  up  the  rich  freightage 
of  prosperous  commerce,  for  Hamburg  is  to-day  the  third  or 
fourth  in  point  of  commercial  tonnage  of  European  i)orts.  She 
grows  apace,  and  the  100,000  people  of  a  few  years  ago  have 
now  become  nearly,  if  not  quite,  500,000.  Her  lake  and  canals 
are  not  exactly  stinking,  and  in  that  there  has  been  gre.it  im- 
provement since  I  was  last  here,  in  '75,  but  they  have  th;it  pe- 
culiar odor  which  pervades  the  atmosphere  about  still  waters,  and 
the  entire  city  is  redolent  of  fish,  tar,  cordage  and  of  a  thousand  and 
one  things  which  go  down  upon  and  up  from  the  sea.  The  people 
are  quite  fussy  in  their  fashion  and  fine  gear,  but  it  is  tlie  fussi- 
ness  of  commercial  folk  and  wholly  different  from  that  of  Berlin, 
where  one  insensibly  reaches  the  conclusion  he  is  in  the  capital  of 
an  empire.  There  arc,  too,  many  quaint  old  lean-to  buildings  in 
the  older  part  of  the  town  along  streets  not  20  feet  wide,  and  along 
the  canals  not  much  wider.  It  is  very  charming  to  look  at  two 
old,  narrow-fronted  houses  leaning  together  with  their  lofty, 
steeply  pitched  roofs,  in  which  are  two  or  three  stories  of  lofts 
overtopping  four  or  more  stories  below,  each  so  low  that  a  tall 
man  has  to  dodge  the  joists  above  when  he  walks.  These 
houses  were  built  several  hundred  years  ago  and  lean  against 
each  other  with  a  sort  of  John-Anderson-my-Jo  afTection.  Tear 
down  either  house  the  other  would   fall.      Like  good  old  mar- 

54f> 


^i! 


H 


1! 


QUAINT  OLD  STREETS. 


547 


LEAN-TO 


>,  1888. 

ids  itself 
rharming 
c  city  in 
d  houses 
ppcr  one 

one  be- 
bout  the 
he  gable, 

suspend 
es  to  big 
Joors  cn- 
:ha  meni- 
led  beam 
reightage 

third  or 
i-ts.  She 
igo  have 
id  canals 
groat  im- 

thiit  pe- 
itcrs,  and 

sand  and 
le  people 

he  fussi- 
5f  Berlin, 
:a[)ital  of 

Idings  in 

nd  along 
at  two 

ir    lofty, 
of  lofts 

lat  a  tall 
These 
against 
|)n.    Tear 

old  mar- 


ried  couples  they   have   stood    the   brunt   of   many  storms  to- 
gether, and  must  stand  and  tumble  to<rether  at  tiie  end     There 
are  many  of  these  old  structures  in  llamburg,  niakin-r  it    next 
to  Hanover,  the  quaintest  of  German  towns.'    That  is^  they  are 
in   parts  the  quaintest,   though    modern    structures   in    both  so 
abound   and   arc  so  fine  that  the  older  streets  are  overlooked 
by  many  tourists.     In  many  other  old  towns  niodcrn  improve- 
ments   have    been   so   few,   that   an   odor  of  oldncss  and  an  air 
of  quaintness   predominate   and  ciiaracterize  the  whole,  but  in 
all  to  a  much  less  degree  than  in  parts  of  tliese  two  northern 
cities.     At  Hanover  in  many  streets  one  feels  he  is  living  in  a 
past    age.     A   cluster   of   old    lean-to   houses   meets   one's   eye 
constant!)',    leaning    against   each    other    and    over    the    streets 
a;i    if   striving   to    shake    hands    across    the    narrow   ways,    and 
looking  so  ancient  that  when  a   woman    ajipears   in   an    upper 
window    one   feels  like  addressing   her   as   the   wife    or   ilaugh- 
tcr  of  sonic  old  burgher  of  three  and  four  centuries  gone    by. 
Here   upon  an  architrave,  spanning  a  musty  doorwav,"  in  queer 
letters  deep  cut  into   the  stone,  is'  a  quotation   from'  the  I5ible, 
showing  the  religious  sentiment  of  the  owner  when  he  stood  in 
buckram  and  broad,  flapping  top-boots,  to  superintend  the  build- 
ing of  the  house  in  which  he  was  to  live  and' to  rear  \.\\>  his  chil- 
dren in  the  fear  of  the  Lord.     One  passes  through  the  door-way 
and  mounts  steep  stairways,  winding  about  through  low  stories, 
dropping  his  head  as  he  as:cnds,  for  men  were  not   expected  in 
those  days  to  go  heavenw.  el  with  too  erect  fronts.    Little  rooms 
open  from  each  landing,  in  which   are  gond-naturetl   women  and 
children  aiiiiil  clothes-lines  stretching  from  ceiling  beams,  and  all 
redolent  of  fresh  wa.shing  and   sauer-kraut.     Up  one  goes  from 
story   to    story,  passing  a  little  coop  in  which  a  goose  gently 
cackles,  for  German  townspeople,  as  well  as  the  country  folk,  arc 
believers  in  goose-grease  for  measles  and  whooping-cough.     The 
upper  story  is  reached  (so  the  curious  one  thinks  at   least).     The 
rooms  are  hardly  seven  feet   higli,  but  still  ench  little  eight  by 
nine  room  is  tenanted  aiul  little  children  wonder  what  the  stran- 
ger wishes,  but  the  good  frau  is  not   offended     .hen  she  is  told 
how  pretty  is  the  old-time  house.     The  curious  visitor  is  about 
to  descend  when  his  eye  catches  another  stair,  almost  as  steep  as 
a  ladder  and  nearly  hidilen  in  a  recess  in  tiie  wall  ;  up  he  goes, 
and  is  in  a  loft  black  with  the  smoke  of  by-gone  centuries,  filled 
with  rags  and  old-time  chests  and  cupboards  black  with  age.     It 
is  a  rag-picker's  loft ;  his  shop  is  then  recollected  as  being  below 
in  the  narrow  little  courtyard  ;  okl  scraps  of  hice  and  embroidery 
hang  on  lines,  and  the  dark  chests  are  padlocked.     How  they  got 
up  those  narrow  stejis  one  f-an  scarcely  guess,  but  tl  ev  are  there, 
and  one  almost  whisperr,.  lest  the  fairy  form  of  irTulein,  dead  two 
or  three  hundred  j'cars  ago,  may  open  the  lid  of  a  chest  and  ask 
why  the  intruder  comes.  '  Still  another  loft,  and  perhaps  a  third, 


r 


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,•:. 


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ii 


1^1'  !i 


■  t 


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IK 

1li 

1 

548 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


The    roof   tiles  arc 
itflit    of  clay   comes 


arc  cramped  in    beneath    the    rid^e-pole. 
shiny   in    polished  smoke    stains,  and    the 

through  many  a  cliink,  but  the  tiles  are  bent  and  keep  out  the 
rain,  though  they  let  in  light  enough  to  save  windows.  The 
rafters  are  rough-hewn  and  massive,  and  filled  with  nail  heads 
driven  for  clothes-lines  to  hang  to  when  Martin  Luther  was  fight- 
ing the  devil  in  iiis  dreams  and  electors  and  palatines  were  bat- 
tling to  tear  down  or  to  maintain  the  faith  of  ages.  An  old 
residence  with  the  date  1527  on  its  door  lintel,  and  yet  filled 
with  human  tenants,  impresses  one  with  its  age  more  than 
docs  a  temple  2,000  or  3,000  years  old,  in  which  jackals  and 
bats  are  the  only  living  habitants.  Present  human  life  forms  a 
living  link  with  the  dead  past,  and  one  feels  he  is  at  least  sur- 
rounded by  the  ghosts  of  three-centuries-ago  dead,  whereas  in 
the  ancient  temple  he  feeis  that  myths  alone  ever  walked  among 
the  massive  columns.  These  latter  awake  no  human  sympathy 
in  the  breathing  present  for  the  long-silent  past. 

The  new  city  of  Hanover  impresses  one  as  quite  a  capital. 
Not  so  Hamburg,  which  is  a  town  of  bustle  and  business.  Hut 
the  Hamburger  has  fine  theatres  and  some  churches  of  great 
beauty.  The  new  chime  bells  of  St.  Nicholas  had  just  been  com- 
pleted when  we  were  there  on  Sunday,  the  23d.  We  somehow 
or  other  generally  stumble  at  the  right  moment  on  what  is  going 
on  in  cities  we  visit.  We  went  to  the  church  to  be  present  at 
the  morning  service.  A  sweet  strain  of  music  came  from  the 
lofty  tower, — it  is  473  feet  high.  The  new  and  fine-toned  chime- 
bells  were  being  tried  for  tlie  first  time  ;  tune  after  tune  was 
played  very  finely  and  I  was  loath  to  go  inside,  but  did.  A 
beautiful  anthem  was  being  rendered  by  a  choice  clioir  to  the 
congregation  which  packed  the  church  in  reverent  attention. 
The  sermon  over,  we  went  out,  and  still  the  music  was  coming 
from  far  above  as  if  awakened  by  celestial  hands  on  celosti.d 
chords.  For  three-quarters  of  an  hour  weird  strain  after  strain 
was  rendered,  and  when  grand  "Old  Hundred"  pealed  forth  in 
its  solemn  heart-reaching  tones,  T  listened  and  felt  no  Catholic 
could  help  feeling  grateful  to  Luther  for  that  noble  score.  I 
think  he  was  its  composer,  at  least  I  am  sure  the  air  I  listened  to 
was  his,  though  I  may  have  misnamed  it.  I  can  never  remember 
airs,  much  to  the  merriment  of  my  musical  boys.  I  am  as  full 
of  music  and  poetry  as  an  egg  is  of  meat,  and  all  the  fuller 
for  that  none  would  ever  come  out  of  me.  As  soon  as  this  air 
was  finished  we  hurried  off;  I  did  not  wish  to  hear  others.  How 
long  they  were  kept  up  I  do  not  know. 

The  canals  of  Hamburg,  while  being  marked  features  in  add- 
ing to  the  quaint  picturesqueness  of  the  old  town,  are  not,  as  in 
Venice,  component  parts  of  the  beauty  of  the  city.  The  hand- 
some fronts  of  the  houses  arc  on  streets,  and  it  is  their  rear  walls 
whose  foundations  arc  washed  by  the  waters. 


Sn\:ET  SCENERY. 


549 


and  houses.  The  public  buildin^^rs  are  fine,  its  drives  and  parks 
cxqu.s.te  and  the  people  jolly  and  gay  The  cafes  at  ni-dlt  are 
crowded,  but  we  saw  but  httle  coffee  or  chocolate  used.  Bavarian 
beer  however,  was  quaffed  in  surprising  quantity.  1  always  like 
to  talk  to  Hanoverians.  Their  German  is  so  distinct  that  I  can 
follow  them  better  than  any  other  people  in  the  father-land 

We  took  rail  thence  to  Frankfort-on-the-Main.     It  gave  us  a 
charming   ride      Few   roads  in    Europe   present   more   plcasinc 
scenery.     Nothing   grand,  but   much  that  is  sweetly  rural    and 
a  great  deal  full  of  the  mildly  picturcscpie.     For  some  hours  low 
mountains  lay  to  our  right,  with  wooded  slopes  toward  the  higher 
ground,  and  f^ne  farm  lands  below.     In  the  distance,  to  the 'left 
were  the  outlying  hills  of  the  Ilartz  mountains,  where  every  deli 
has  its  legend  and  every  steep  hill  its  brocken.     Everywhere  the 
peasantry  were  plowing  and  sowing  small  grain,  or  were  busy 
afield  gathering  potatoes,  of  which  tall  bags  stood  in  line  across 
the  fiekls  like  whitish  sentries.     In  some  localities  the  land  was 
broken  by  two  yoke  of  oxen,  but  generally  with  one  or  two  teams 
of   horses.     Scarcely  any  cattle  were  seen   grazing.     Flocks  of 
geese  were  frecpient,  each  attended  by  a  goosehcrd.     Cows  were 
hitched  to  light  wagons  drawing  in  grain  or  carrying  manure  out 
to  the  fields.     The  cows  arc  not  idle  latlies  in  this  faiul  ;  besides 
their  more  gentle  duties  they  do  their  share  of  farmwoik.     I  no- 
where saw  women  at  heavy  labor  as  in  Austria  and  Russia.  They 
follow  the  reaper,  bind  and  gather  crops,  but  only  the  men  seem 
to  perform  labor  demanding  strong  muscles.     In  Austria,  how- 
ever, women  are  hod  carriers  and  stone-packers.   We  saw  nowhere 
in    Germany   women  made  beasts  of  burden,  though  they  are, 
heaven  knows,  hard  enough  worked  to  satisfy  the  command  that 
as  a  part  of  man  they  should  earn  their  bread  by  the  sweat  of 
their  faces.    Indeed  their  whole  bodies  are  forced  to  reek  in  sweat. 
People,  especially  the  communists,  pour  out  their  dissatisfaction 
with  the  laws  of  glorious  America.    But  their  grumblings  arc  not 
half  as  silly  as  those  of  our  women.  They  are  pampered  and  coaxed, 
wheedled  perhaps,  and  sometimes  cheated,  but  when  compared 
with  their  sisters  in  most  lands  our  women  arc  queens;  and  when 
they  are  forced  to  work  for  a  living  feel  themselves  down-trodden. 
Ik-sides  the  forests  on  the  upper  mountains,  large  wooded  tracts 
and  copses  crown  the  summits  of  lower  hills  and  creep  down  their 
sides  into  the   valleys.     Here  and  there  arc  elegant  chateaux. 
Schloss  Marienburg,  built  by  Queen  Maria  of  Hanover,  is  one  of 
the  most  picturesque  palaces  in  Europe.     It  is  a  great  media.'val 
building,  with  towers  and  turrets,  beautifully  nestled  on  a  lofty 
hill  in  noble  timber.     On  several  rocky  eminences  and   abrupt; 


I 


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i'l^I 


ill 


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|: 


55° 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


\l 


Vl.d    ! 


conical  hills  are  old  ruins  with  tall  towers  and  old  diincjeon-keeps, 
very  romantic  and  charmin<^.  liottinj^cn,  world-famous  for  its 
university,  recalls  musty  memories  and  student  duels.  Near  this 
fine  old  literary  town  tlie  road  climbs  from  the  river  Leine  for 
several  miles  a  lofty  divide,  showing  beautiful  valleys  witii  villages 
and  hamlets  and  woods  and  silver  streams  far  beli)\v,  and  then 
drops  down  by  an  even  descent  to  the  Weser,  along  which  and 
the  r^ulda  it  ascends  to  Munden.  We  were  along  here  generally 
high  upon  the  mountain  slope,  with  the  silvery  river  much  below. 
The  low  mountains  are  for  miles  clothed  in  rich  young  forests, 
now  borrowing  a-^t'imnal  tints.  Ruins  peep  from  among  the 
trees  on  pointed  foot-Iiills,  while  villages  and  handets  are  nestled 
in  orchards  and  fruity  gardens.  Few  spots  are  to  be  seen  any- 
where more  deliciously  sweet  than  Munden,  with  its  orchards  and 
pointed  roofs,  steeples  and  old  towers,  down  in  the  neck,  formed 
by  the  junction  of  the  Fulda  with  the  Werra.  The  road  here 
drops  from  the  mountain  side  and  bends  in  beautiful  curves 
around  the  old  tree-embowered  town,  as  if  the  engineer  was  think- 
ing as  much  of  the  beautiful  view  it  permits  as  the  ease  of  loco- 
motion. Near  Casscl,  also,  we  had  fine  views.  The  number  of 
towns  and  large  villages  along  our  road  is  surjirising,  I  suppose 
owing  to  the  rail  following  closely  the  line  of  the  t)ld  carriage 
road,  along  which  population  has  been  for  ages  accumulating. 
But  I  have  given  so  many  of  my  many  letters  to  descriptions  of 
scenery  that  I  forbear  dwelling  longer  now.  I  love  it  so  much 
that  my  pen  becomes  a  loving  one  when  I  b  gin  to  describe  a 
view  whicli  sinks  deeply  into  not  only  the  eye  but  far  down  into 
the  heart.  One  very  pretty  feature  of  many  miles  of  this  road  is 
made  up  of  fine  old  mills,  now  on  tolerable-sized  streams,  and 
then  on  the  same  when,  as  we  run  up,  they  become  so  small  as  to 
be  almost  lost  in  the  long  grass  of  green  meadows. 

I  would  have  liked  much  to  stop  at  quaint  old  Marburg,  a  mass 
of  pointed-roofed,  tall  houses,  hugging  a  high  hill,  on  which  lifts 
an  old  castle.  So  closely  are  the  houses  packet!  on  the  hill-side 
that  each  upper  one  seems  to  be  erected  upon  the  inner  roof  of 
the  one  next  below  it.  Here  it  was  that  the  reformers  met,  about 
1530,  to  settle  disputed  points  of  the  new  faith,  and  where  Luther 
answered  every  argument  of  Melancthon  in  opposition  to  the 
actual  presence  by  the  one  single  assertion,  showing  his  strict 
adherence  to  the  ]5ible's  words:  "  This  is  my  body."  Again  and 
again  the  mild  and  able  scholar  would  come  around  to  his  argu- 
ment. Hluff  old  Martin  had  but  one  answer,  and  ihat  was  the 
words  of  Christ.  Striking  the  table  with  the  book,  lie  exclaimed  : 
"  Hoc  est  corpus  meum,"  and  ended  the  discussion.  Hrave  old 
Martin  Luther!  Whatever  his  opponents  may  say  of  his  faults. 
they  must  confess  his  was  a  sturdy  heart,  and  the  literal  Bible 
was  his  only  guide.  His  was  a  great,  stalvva't  body,  full,  it  was 
said,  of  human  passion.    But  he  bravely  fought  his  passions  as  he 


\u 


151 


COLOGNE  CATHEDRAL. 


55' 


fought  the  devil  when  he  api)c:irccl  to  liis  excited  imagination. 
His  was  a  good  figlit.  lie  not  only  brougiit  into  full  day  a  mi'dity 
revolution  and  a  nyw  creed,  but  he  purified  the  church  he  left. 
Its  better  elements  soon  got  control  ami  drove  out  the  money- 
changers, who  sonnlinies  j^et  into  the  temple  of  the  Lonl. 

We  enjoyed    I'rankfort  much,  with   its  fine  streets,  beautitui 
trcc-embowered  residences,  and  splendid  palm-garden.   It  has,  too, 
some  quaint  old  buildings,  fine  churches,  and  gooil  collections! 
The  Ariadne  is  one  of  the  best  things  in  modern  marble.     We 
revelled  in  Rudesheimer  and  old  legends  along  storied  and  castled 
Rhine  ;  we  looked  with  admiration  upon  that  Gothic  triumph,  the 
Cologne  Cathedral ;  walked  and  sat  in  its  grand  nave  and  aisles, 
and  bathed  in  flootls  of  glorious  light,  pouring  through  the  olcl 
pictured  windows;  listened  to  the  deep  tones  of  its  organ  i^  they 
rolled  among  the  noble  columns,  and  were  caught  and  mellowed 
among  the  vaultings  of  the  nave  l  50  feel  above,  to  be  returnetl  to 
us  in  glorious  rii)eness.     Again  and  again  we  visited  the  splendid 
pile,  wandering  with  our  eyes  among  its  forest  of  airy  pinnacles, 
and  climbing  its  towers  from  point  to  point  till  our  vision  swept, 
512    feet    above,    into    the    blue    sky.      1    remember    h<nv    as    a 
young  man,  in  1S51, 1  gazed  with  admiration  upon  the  unfinished 
pile,  the  broken    tower,  with  its  old  wooden  crane,  which  had 
waited  there  for  long  centuries,  ready  to  resume  its  task,  pinnacle 
upon    pinnacle  about  the  roof   crumbling   and   scaling  away  ;  I 
wondered  then   if  the  dream  of  Gerard  would  ever  be  a  finished 
whole,  and  envied  the  future  traveller  who  might  visit  it.     It  is  a 
grand   pile,  but,  as  I  think  I  said  some  months  since,  if  the  Lord 
shoul  1  choose  ills  thveliing-place  on  earth,  He  would  never  abide 
in  a  tomb  like  Gothic  church.     From  Cologne,  through  the  sweet 
lands   about   Aix   la  Chapelle,  we  cpiitted  the  father-land,  but  I 
hope  not  for  the  last  time. 

We  found  Brussels  a  beautiful  city,  and  not  the  dull  one  I 
thought  it  37  }ears  ago.  It  is  thoroughly  modern,  and  h.is  more 
social  red-tape  than  any  other  European  capital.  How  one  can 
find  any  thing  to  make  the  appointment  of  Minister  to  Belgium 
worth  accepting,  is  hard  to  conceive.  Most  cordially  I  congratu- 
lated my  friend,  Judge  Tree,  on  liis  promotion  to  St.  Peterstnirg. 
Belgium  is  a  prosperous  land,  and  though  the  most  densely 
populated  country  on  the  globe,  sends  but  few  emigrants  abroad. 


i 

V.': 

\ 


, 


* 


f  1 

I. 


■'  \. 


CHAPTRR  TJ. 

WONDERFUL,    FASCINATINC.    IWUIS— IMPROVF-MENTS-    OF    TIIR 

EMPIRE— RLCOl. I. I'.CTIONS  OF  DIXEMDER,  1S51 

—MARKETS  OK  PARIS. 


i^t 


m  ''i 


Pan's,  October   14,    r888. 

From  Brussels  to  Paris  the  road  traverses  a  country  not  unin- 
tercsting,  but  devoid  of  characteristics  to  make  it,  in  suc'i  letters 
as  tliese,  wortliy  of  description;  and  althou<^h  we  liad  yet  to 
traverse  nearly  6,ooo  miles  before  reaching  the  goal  in  (uir  "  race 
with  the  sun,"  there  was  to  me  no  more  of  that  charm  1'.  novelty 
whicii  had  enabled  us  to  enjoy  our,  up  to  now,  laboii  nis  '  uirney- 
ings.  The  old  man  of  the  party  would,  from  this  on,  take  his 
ease.  To  the  young  man,  liowever,  the  real  culmination  was  but 
re.iched.  He  was  told  to  take  advantage  of  his  short  opportuni- 
ties, and  to  see  and  study  as  best  he  could.  Paris  and  London, 
ne.xt  to  one  other,  are  the  two  most  remarkable  cities  the  world 
had  ever  known.  These  two  vast  hives  may  be  studied  as  the 
very  epitomes  of  the  great  book  of  human  nature.  The  one  of 
man  as  a  cultivated  worshipper  of  the  beautiful,  the  .esthetic,  and 
the  refined  ;  as  an  intense  seeker  of  i)leasure  ;  a  laughing,  idle 
lover  of  case,  or  as  a  reckless  sybarite  ;  the  other  of  man,  an  earn- 
est toiler  along  the  rugged  paths  of  ambition,  or  a  delving,  sordid, 
worming  offspring  of  greed  ;  the  home  of  the  grandest  type  of 
manhood,  and  of  the  lowest  representative  of  vice.  In  Paris  one 
can  drift  along  with  a  moving  croud  with  nothing  to  do,  yet 
never  wearying,  for  about  him  are  thousands  as  aimless  as  him- 
self, and,  though  he  speak  to  none  and  hear  none  speak,  he  has  a 
constant  companionship  and  a  felt  but  unexpressed  sympathy, 
which  makes  care  and  ennui  an  impossibility.  He  saunters  along 
the  streets  and  boulevards  and  jostles  against  others,  who  are 
never  offended,  for  they,  too,  are  idle  .saunterers,  ami  are  not  cer- 
tain but  that  themselves  were  at  fault.  He  stands  before  a  show- 
window,  and  treads  upon  some  one's  toes,  who  begs  pardon,  for  he 
has  put  his  foot  in  the  woy.  He  takes  an  afternoon  walk  along 
the  mighty  thoroughfares  to  get  rid  of  time  i;)leasantly.  He  meets 
and  passes  a  hundred  thousand  engaged  in  the  same  undertaking. 
He  does  this  day  after  day  and  week  after  week,  and  can  be  posi- 
tive that  but  comparatively  few  of  those  seen  to-day  were  his  co- 
partners in  idleness  the  day  before.     For,  during  the  year,  they 

552 


THE 


CHARMIXG  PARIS. 


553 


numb  1  ^  million,  not  from  Paris  alone,  but  from  the  buttcrd,.., 
and  the  hoiicy-consiimcrs  of  the  civilized  world.     To  the  man  of 


les 


taste  ami  to  the  studious  dreamer,  I'aris  mal 


Kes  unnecessar)'  any 


indivulu.il  companionship— except  what  springs  up  with  one  whc 
temporarily  occupies  the  seat  next  him  at  the  restaurant,  in  the 
cafe,  the  out-door  concert,  or  on  the  deck  of  an  excursion  steamer 
or  unuiibus.  The  motto  of  every  one  met  is  "  //  faiit  samiiscr" 
and  every  one  is  ready  to  give  his  or  her  aid  in  this  Parisian 
devoir.     Not  only  are  all  polite  and  ready  to  meet  one  half  w 


from  etiquette,  hut  from  the  universal  d 

Politeness  is  not  confined  to  the  better  cl 

est  and  poorest  laborer  in  his  working  blouse  knows  its  I 

rules  as  well  as  the  habitue  of  St.  G 


emand  for  amusement. 

isses,  but  the  common- 

orms  and 


liermain.  The  same  terms 
used  in  the  sahms  of  the  nobles  are  also  at  the  tongue's  end  of  the 
.soiled  toiler  in  the  Paubourg  St.  Antoine,  of  the  ragged  street 
gamin,  or  of  the  wori\.out  old  rag-picker.  The  accent  and  patois 
alone  show  any  difference  between  the  expressions  of  the  highest 
and  of  the  lowest.  t)ne,  therefore,  need  fear  no  coarse  repulse 
to  his  advances,  it  matters  not  who  is,  for  the  time  being,  his 
neighbor. 

Every  shop  window  is  arranged  for  aesthetic  effect,  so  that  the  very 
streets  are  museums,  where  one  can,  with  no  other  cost  than  being 
somewhat  footsore,  see,  enjoy,  and  study  the  beautiful,  and  he  al- 
ways has  company,  who,  be  they  male  or  female,  are  ready  to  inter- 
change opinions  on  what  he  observes.  Except  at  the  hours  when 
people  move  to  or  from  business,  all  whom  he  meets  seem  to  have 
his  occupation— seeking  enjoyment.  I  remember  once  long  ago 
being  with  a  party  looking  down  a  boulevard,  where  many  thou- 
sands coultl  be  seen  from  our  vantage-ground.  One  of  my  com- 
panions offered  a  wager  he  could  in  two  minutes  make  this 
multitude  do  as  he  would  do.  The  wager  accepted,  he  stepped 
to  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  and  looked  intently  at  the  sky.  One 
after  anotlier  the  passers  followed  his  example,  to  see  what  he  so 
anxiously  watc'ied.  In  an  incredibly  short  time  every  one  in 
sight  was  stopping  and  looking  aloft.  I  doubt  not  the  contagion 
went  far  beyond  the  turn  of  the  street,  which  we  could  see.  He 
won  the  wager.  "  Cliaqnc  bourse  a  scs  plaisiers "  is  truer  in 
Paris  than  in  any  other  city.  A  meal,  a  play,  a  ball,  a  concert  is 
at  hand  in  each  and  every  quarter,  to  be  had  for  prices  ranging 
from  a  few  sous  up  to  as  many  francs ;  each  the  same  as  every 
other,  but  differing  in  quality,  though  not  in  quantity.  A  steak 
or  roast  dinner  from  a  worn  out  dray-horse— a  little  tough, 
but  quite  as  nourishing  may  be  had  for  20  cents,  as  the  fillet 
from 'a  Norman-fed  bullock  for  20  francs;  both  washed  down 
by  a  bottle  of  wine,  here  costing  six  or  eight  cents,  there  all 
the  wav  up  to  two  or  three  dollars.  A  dime  gives  a  man  a  wild, 
whirling  waltz  at  a  ball  with  a  modest-Aw/i'/V  girl,  neat  and  trim 
in  pretty  shop  garb,  or  he  may  pay  all  the  way  u^  to  five  dollars 


n'^ 


>m 


\ ) 
\ 


'  i?^ 


si 


H 


p,  ' 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


^r-    , 


i    !' 


m. 


'  ni 


for  no  better  waltzinjj  in  more  aristocratic  ball  rooms,  but  with  a 
partner  wcarinij  silks  ami  laces  and  painting  on  cheeks  artistically 
rose-tinted.  Theatres  abound  in  every  quarter,  all  with  fairly 
good  actinc^,  ami  jests,  perha])s  broad  and  not  too  chaste,  for  ten 
cents,  or  with  no  better  wit  but  its  viciousness  sugar-coated,  for 
prices  ranging  through  all  scales  up  to  two  or  three  dollars. 

If  the  iilier  be  of  scientific  turn,  he  may  skim  iiglitly  near  the 
surface,  and  pick  up  a  gentleman!)-  knowledge  of  any  or  all 
sciences  dropi)ed  from  learned  lips  in  free-lecture  rooms,  or  may 
delve  deep  into  hidden  K/re  in  the  richest  of  libraries,  open  to  all, 
anil  then  hear  elucidations  in  the  Sorbonne,  and  examine  in  open 
museums  specimens,  for  wiiich  have  been  ransacked  tiie  bowels 
of  the  eartii  and  the  caves  of  the  sea.  Would  he  read  as  connois- 
seur, or  study  as  student,  tiie  glories  of  Art  ?  Acres  of  canvas  are 
spread  before  him,  on  wiiich  genius  li;is  depicted  iium.m  passions 
or  rivalleil  tiie  beauteou>iiess  t)f  nature,  with  "looms  (.Jul:  from 
cavernous  depths,  mellowness  of  tints  borrowed  from  the  rain- 
bow, or  effulgent  light  plucked  from  the  stars.  Acres  uf  forms 
pose  in  godlike  mould,  or  writhe  in  demoniac  agony  in  marble  or 
bronze,  into  which  the  chisel's  magic  touch  has  breathed  living 
souls.  Would  he  study  or  amuse  himself  with  human  foibles  and 
evcry-day  human  thought?  in  cafe  and  in  crowded  garden  ;  on 
working  day  thoroughfares  or  fete-day  excursions,  \\v  can  mingle 
with  tiiousaiids  who,  intent  ujion  their  own  enjoyments,  exhibit 
their  hearts  and  souls,  as  fuiiy  as  skitting  lambs  show  their  inno- 
cence, or  kittens  display  their  frolicsomemscss.  No  civilized  peo- 
ple evince  sucii  debonair  recklessness  (jf  otners'  opinions  as  do  the 
French.  Subtle  and  secretrve  in  matters  involving  grave  interests, 
they  are  ven.'  chddren  when  they  have  no  ilangerous  motive  to 
conceal. 

I  spent  a  part  of  the  autumn  and  winter  of  1.S51-  52  in  Paris. 
My  associates  were  largely  of  the  student  ci.iss,  jiartly  Anu'rii^an 
and  partly  native.  Some  of  my  cx])eriences  wouM  be  amusing  if 
I  could  narrate  them,  and  some  bordered  u|)()n  the  tragic.  Louis 
Napoleon  was  president  of  the  republic.  1  had  no  confidence  in 
his  republicanism,  and  declined  a  presentation  to  the  "  Little 
Prince."  offered  me  through  a  charming  young  lady,  daughter  of 
ou'  tlieri  minister,  oni-  of  mv  dist.int  \'iri;iiiia  cousins.  Her  name 
is  now  being  made  famous  at  home  bv  her  namesake  and  niece. 
My  lack  of  confidence  in  Louis  Napoleon  was  soon  justified.  The 
evening  of  December  1st  was  calm,  and  the  sunset  sky  sweetly 
rose-tinted.  The  house  in  which  I  iiad  apartments  was  on  St. 
George's,  near  the  one  in  Rue  Lafitte  in  which  the  presiilent  was 
born.  It  was  occupied  by  a  large  number  of  Italian  patriots, 
refugees  frmn  Rome.  From  one  (  w.is  taking  lessons  in  his  soft 
language.  liarly  in  the  morning  of  the  2d,  his  tap  came  upon 
my  door  Pale  and  excited,  he  told  me  that  the  city  was  in  u 
state  of  siege,  and  that  Caviagnac,  Thiers,  and  other  republican 


T 


REVOLUTION  OF  DECEMBER,  i8; 


555 


lead 


crs  wen:  arrested  and  sent  off  to  II 


y  l)lood  boiled,  and  my  t 
toi.  mon  j^ar^on,"  lie  said. 


ini  and  other  furtre- 


oil!. 


;iio  rattled  off  denunciations.  "  T 


Hut  I 


can. 


L 


est  vrais,  niais  n 


im  not  afraitl,  I  am  an  .\ 


l!S 

meri- 


ind    \-oiir  words   may  be  dan;^a'roiis   to   us. 
)ff 


ous  sommcs— nous  autres— Romains. 


coffee  hurri.  dly  and  sallied  fortli.     Tlie  b 
ded  b 


1 

oulevard 


swallowed    my 
s  close  l)v  were 


crowded  by  excited  people.     Soon  a  line  of  nionnted  lancers  bc- 
^ran  to  pour  up  the  broad  avenue.     There  were   lo.ono  of  tl„.m 


Close  b\'  my  side  on  the  curb-stf)ne  stood  a  dist 


ladv.     1  asked  her  what 


With  a  sliru;4  of  the  slKJulders 


were  the   feeliiv's  of  the   I'.ir 


incruished-lookinc 


isians  now. 


It 


is    t;ratitude    to    Monsieur    le    Prince    f( 


and  a  sweet  smile,  she  answered: 


spectacle."      Iler  words  were  so  cold-bloodeil  that   I 
torled  :  "  C'est  im[)ossible!  "     With 
joined  :  "  Monsieur  est  .'\ 


sweet  coiulescensi 


r   this   magnificent 
anijrily  re- 


nn 


le  rc- 


mericam,  nest  pas'  je  ■^iiis  Tarisienne, 


niais  je  connais  les  I'ansiennes;    attende/  les  denouement- 


w 


;is  vei}-  beautiful,  but  for  the  moment  I  fup'ot 


She 


and  disliked  her. 

Kvenls    afterward    showed    that    sh 


mv  admiration 


e    was    riirht,  and  that 


m 


>' 


patriotic  sympathies  were  all  wasted.  Kai)idly  the  j;reat  streets 
were  filled  with  soldiers,  and  news  came  of  barricades  in  .several 
localitiis.     Afterwards,  with  a  party  of  student^.  I  started  to  "et 


lear   I'orte  St.    M.irt 


m,  where  a  stroni' 


iarricade  was 


th 


rown  up 


and  fi-^duiiiL;  was  i^oin;^'  on.  I  stojiped  in  a  boutique  (shop)  to  write 
a  p<)stscri|)t  in  ;i  letter  I  was  about  to  post  home.  My  friends  ^ot 
a  little  way  aheail  of  me,  and  the  crowd  was  so  "leat  that  I  could 


lot  i>vertake  tl 


lem. 


I  ''i>t   within  siirht  of  St.   Mart 


iu,  wiien  an 


order  ran  di)wn  the  boulevard  to  open  ever\'  upper  window. 
Sonic  shots  had  come  from  behind  closed  blinds;  and  im- 
meiliatel)-  after  another  order  ran  alon^  the  line  "f  soldiers  to 


clear  the  streets. 


he  crowd  at  first  tlid  not  budi 


a  r.iti 


A 


musketry  poured  down  towards  us,  and  a  cannon-ball  crashed 
into  a  bouti(pie  window  a  few  steps  behintl  me.  Then  there  was 
a  rush  to  i,ut  awa\-.  I  was  carried  alon_i;  by  the  movin^^  mass. 
Hits  of  plasti-r  came  down  u])on  niy  head  from  upper  walls  upon 
which  iiui^kit-balls  were  rattlmi;.  .Xs  .Sam  Weller  .said  :  "  It  was 
too  e.vcitini;  to  be  i)lea-int."  1  was  j^lad  to  reach  a  cross  street, 
into  which  I  ijlun^etl,  and  made  a  detour  so  ,is  to  reach  a  point 
where-  I  could  cro-s  the  boulevard  to  i^et  to  m_\'  resilience.  Thi'- 
I  could  not  do  until  1  reached  the  Madeleine,  over  a  mile  off. 
The  crowd  rapidly  vanished  from  the  streets,  as  if  by  ma^dc. 
When  I  crossed  Ku'-  Vivienne,  there  was  not  a  pers<in  to  be  seen 
except  the  soUliers,  zr^ct  or  300  yards  off  at  the  boulevard's  inter- 
section, who  .it  that  moment  poured  a  volley  adown  the  street.  I 
thoujdit  1  lu'ard  bullets  whistling,';  when  I  had  crossed  Vivienne  I 
laiiL;lied  at  m\self  for  imaL;iiiini;  I  had  heard  bullets,  for  1  then 
felt  sure  the  volle\s  were  of  blank  cartrid^^e.  I  afterwards  found 
that  the  walls  above  the  second  story  at  that   point   had  been 


1  I 


\ 


556 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


Mfi 


!^l%' 

';-'§:! 


'/  ''^ 


m 


riddled  with  balls,  and  more  than  probably  some  of  them  came 
while  I  was  there.  It  was  almost  impossible  to  remain  in  my 
room,  so  great  was  the  fever  of  excitement  biuninjj  in  me.  At 
one  time  I  was  in  a  pack  at  the  mouth  of  Rue  Lafittewhen  some 
firing  was  heard  up  the  boulevard  ;  we  were  ordered  to  disperse 
with  an  '' allcz  vans  cii."  We  paid  no  attention  to  it.  Then 
came  a  stern  "  Va  t'cn  !  "  We  knew  that  meant  business,  especially 
when  a  platoon  of  infantry  was  seen  rapidly  approaching.  I  was 
ne.xt  the  boulevard.  The  crowd  rushed  back,  leaving  ni}  rear 
open  to  the  enemy.  I  ran,  putting  my  hands  in  front  of  me,  and 
then  drawing  them  back,  as  if  swimming.  Each  motion  put  two 
or  three  Frenchmen,  not  so  strong  as  I,  behind  me.  I  thus  made 
a  living  /'n'tjst-work  to  my  rear,  of  probably  a  luindretl,  when  the 
crash  of  musketr}-  v, as  heard.  There  were  screams.  How  many 
were  hit  I  did  nut  hear,  but  I  soon  saw  two  men  on  sliuttcrs  borne 
up  the  street. 

St.  Martin's  barricade  fell  and  was  captured,  ar.d  at  dusk,  with 
a  little  lady  friend  of  our  concierge,  I  went  out  to  reconnoitre. 
The  public  were  permitted  to  cross  the  boulevard  only  at  Rue 
Montmartre.  Mounted  sentinels  were  moving  back  and  forth, 
while  the  mass  of  cavalry  were  bivouacked  in  the  centre  of  the 
broad  avenue.  We  had  crossed,  and  were  stooping  down  to 
examine  what  wc  took  to  b  .  blood  in  the  gutter.  All  at  once  I 
felt  something  cold  touch  my  cheek.  I  looKcd  up;  the  barrel  of 
a  horse  pistol  was  within  two  inches  o>  my  nose,  and  the  mounted 
owner  ordered  us  on.  I  need  not  say  that  we  obeyed  with  exceed- 
ing alacrity.  I  said  some  things  at  that  time  bordered  on  the 
tragic.  My  friends  who  got  lost  from  me  on  the  way  to  .St.  Mar- 
tin were  unable  to  reach  a  cross  street  when  the  firing  com- 
menced. Chaupan  of  New  Orleans  went  through  a  hole  in  a 
boutique  shutter,  made  by  a  caniuMi-ball,  antl  hid  himself  in  the 
deserted  house.  Jones  of  Kentucky,  g<Jt  into  a  shop  with  a 
crowd,  soldiers  rushed  in  and  gave  him  a  sabre  ciit  on  his  hand. 
MctcalfTe  of  Mississi))pi,  finding  the  bullets  were  wliisili  ig  ilan- 
gerousl}-,  dropped  with  face  down  to  the  ground  close  to  the 
house-walls  and  lay  still.  Soldiers  in  file  passed  along;  oi:e  ^Mve 
him  a  kick,  saying:  "■  C  est  fait  pour  liii"  (he  is  done  for),  j'oor 
Orrick  played  Falstaff,  but  dreading  the  while  lest  they  might  put 
in  a  finishing  touch.  .Ml  were  more  or  less  greatly  entiangered. 
Ap.  Catesby  Jones  had  a  leg  broken  in  two  places  below  the 
knee,  and  was  for  months  in  a  critical  comlition.  (lie  of  my 
Italian  friends  appeared  no  more  in  our  house,  and  his  com- 
panions wore  sad  and  silent.  Some  gay  young  ladies  lamented 
the  places  lately  filled  b\'  student  friends  (French)  in  a  boarding- 
house  I  sometimes  frequ<Mited  in  the  Latin  qu.irtcr.  The  bulletins 
set  down  the  killed  at  a  dozen  or  so.  I  knew  of  nearly  th.it  m.my 
myself.  I  talked  the  other  day  with  an  old  soldier;  he  said  tliere 
were  i,ooo  killed,  most  of  them  idle  spectators.     In  February  I 


vJl 


CHANGES  IX  PARIS. 


557 


went  eastward,  and  did  not  return  for  nearly  a  year.  I  tlicn  saw- 
Louis  Napoleon  drive  by  with  a;^niartl  of  honor  from  the  inaui^ura- 
tion  of  the  Strasbur^v  station- he  was  Emperor.  Ilamlkerchiefs 
waved  and  "  Vive  I'l'.nipereur  "  ran<;  alon_i,'  the  ^^ay  boulevards.  1 
remembered  the  words  of  my  chance  lady  conipaaion,  and  had  to 
confess  that  the  l'"rench  were  not  ready  for  a  republic.  "  L'em- 
pire  c"es_t  Ic  p;ux."  said  the  scion  of  Bonapartism.  Time  has  shown 
tliat  "L'empire"  was  the  synonym  of  '^dittcrin;^  imbecility,  of  e.v- 
travaL^ant  and  dishonest  beautii'ication  of  Paris,  and  of 'national 
decailence. 

France  is  now  t;nashin^r  l,cr  teeth  in  viv^c  and  vainly  hoping  for 
a  d.iy  of    revenge.     Appealing  to  this  feeling.  Imperialists   and 
Royalists  are  joining    hands  with  extremists'  calling  themselves 
Republicans,  to  destroy-  all  conservative  free  rule  in  the  country. 
Can  .slie  govern  herself?     Is  she  not  again  seeking  a  dictator's 
heel  to  tre.ul  upon  the  necks  of  her  people?     It  seems  so,  for  it 
looks  as  if  Houl.inger  is  about  to  be  mounted  on  horseback.     The 
empire  certainly,  while  rocking  the  people  into  a  dream,  whose 
attractive  visions  were  .self-seeking  corruption,  luxurious  vanity, 
and    national    enervation,    robed    Paris   in    garments   of   beauty. 
Magnifici-nt   boulevards  and  broad  streets  were  cut  and  opened 
into  every  (luarler  of  the  city.     They  were  lined  with  splendid 
edifices,  flattering  the  pride  of  the  citizens,  and  at  the  same  time 
manacling  their  lindis.     In  '52  a  few  uiHurnid   omnibuses   and 
heapeil  paving-stones  from  100  or  200  feet  of  adjoining  streets,  in 
a  half  hour,  maile  a  barricade  which,  defended  by  a  half-armed 
rabble,  held  in  check  thousands  of  well-armed  .md  disciplined  sol- 
diers.     Now  a  Galling  gun  or  a  field-piece  discharging  gnipe  can 
sweep  a  mob  from  any  (piarter  of  the  cai)ital.    Law  and  order  can 
thus  be  jireserved,  ami  so    can    the    rule    of    an    usurper.     Mob 
violence    in    Paris   has   committed    the    most  horrible  crimes  of 
niodiMii  tinu's,  but  the  love  of  ease  and  luxury,  the  greed  of  gold 
and   its  i)urchased  splendors,  made  the    mob    a    possibility,  and 
awakening  the  sym])athies  of   lovers  of   liberty  throughout   the 
world,  has  thrown  a  covering  mantle  over  the  mail  acts  of  an  op- 
pressed and   cheated  ])eople,  and   has   apotheosized   into  heroes 
men  whose  deeds  in  other  lands  wouUl  have  been  called  demoniac 
crimes. 

'Phe  opening  of  tlnse  streets  and  improving  them  into  the  bcau- 
tifiers  of  his  capital  enabled  the  emiieror  to  enrich  himself  and 
his  pets.  A  new  street  was  pi.mned.  contiguous  projierty  was 
purchased  (piietl\',  the  mw  avenue  was  l)uilt  u[);  values  wore 
enhanced  niauy  fold.  Imperi.d  minions  were  enriched,  and  the 
city  itself  fre.|uentlv  gaineil  hugely  to  its  exchequer.  The  open- 
ing of  the  Rue  de  !'( )pera,  a  short  street.  I  am  told,  netted  to  the 
municii),dity  il  millions  of  nione\-.  These  improvements  arc 
still  being  'made  bv  the  republic,  wonderfulK"  to  the  beauty  and 
largely  t.rthe  health  of  the  capital.    Although  during  my  former 


t  ' 


*  i 


SS8 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


visits  I  ran  over  oftentimes  and  knew  Paris  well,  yet  to-day  I 
cannot  recof^nizc  many  of  its  most  frequented  localities.  Where 
1  formerly  squeezed  tlirou^h  narrow  tortuous  streets,  now  I  find 
broad  and  ma;j;nificent  avenues.  Old  monuments,  cluirclies,  and 
lialls,  formerly  half  hidden  by  din^^y  buildint^s  reekin^^  in  slime 
and  dirt,  now  lift  into  fine  sky  lines  from  pretty  s(juares  and  on 
wide  airy  thorouLjhfares.  Old  public  buildings  are  reconstructed, 
but  some  of  the  most  historic  arches,  towers,  and  fountains  arc 
retained  and  made  parts  of  the  new  and  splenditl  structures, 
retaining  thus  enough  of  the  old  to  endear  them  to  the  lover  of 
the  traditions  of  the  past.  A  blouscd  stonc-cutte-  the  other  day 
laid  down  his  chisel  and  pointed  nut  to  me  with  pritle  "  les 
souvenirs  historiques"  being  Iniili:  ''nto  the  oltl  ''halles  au  ble." 
These  old  remains  are  very  dear  to  the  ouvrier  of  the  Faubourg 
St.  Aiitoine.  Every  Parisian  workman  is  ileep-tinged  with  patriot- 
ism and  with  lov^  for  the  traditional  glory  of  his  country  antl  city, 
and  one  is  constantly  surprised  by  the  grandeur  and  dignity  of 
tone  and  language  immediately  assumed  by  the  hard-handed 
toiler,  when  he  mentions  his  country's  past  and  liis  hopes  for 
its  future.  But  he  is  impatient  of  the  slow  progress  of  steady 
growth,  mistrusts  the  statesnum  who  would  cement  as  he  builds, 
and  is  calmly  awaiting  for  to-morrow,  though  knowing  that  the 
certain  to-morrow  may  not  come  for  a  j'ear  or  a  decaile.  He 
chafes  at  delay,  and  is  ready  to  applaud  a  charlatan  who  talks 
glibly  of  doini:^  to-doy,  and  puts  into  the  sacKUe  a  self-seeking  bab- 
bler who  may  the  next  week  ride  roughshod  over  his  country's 
liberty.  Not  only  the  hard-working  toiler,  but  the  dreaming 
student  is  ready  to  take  these  chances,  for  the  latter  knows  that, 
in  the  excitement  to  come,  he  may  ride  upon  the  crest,  as  the 
froth  whitens  upon  a  storm-driven  sea. 

The  Sunda\'  after  we  arrived,  Willie  and  I  visited  St.  Cloud, 
never  rebuilt  since  it  was  fired  by  an  ill-directL'd  bail  from  l'"ort 
Valerien,  aimed  at  the  Germans,  who  were  encamped  on  these 
grounds  during  the  memorable  siege.  To  the  glory  of  tlv:  Ger- 
mans in  that  terrible  war,  it  may  be  proudly  claimed  by  them 
that  they  used  every  exertion  to  prevent  the  destruction  of 
monuments  and  works  of  art.  After  wandering  about  the  park 
and  enjoying  its  excpiisite  views,  we  accidentally  stumbled  through 
a  park  gate  into  a  little  alley  of  Sevres,  marked  "  Kue  Gambetta." 
The  lane  ran  through  large  walled  g.irtlens;  the  vinescovering  the 
walls  made  our  walk  sweet  and  pretty.  There  was,  however,  one 
unpretentious  white  stuccoed  liouse  against  the  little  street,  with  a 
few  small  windows.  The  upper  wall  was  all  covered  with  a  tlia- 
mond-sliapeil  trellis  for  ivy.  The  vine  was,  however,  all  dead,  and 
the  cement  walls,  as  high  as  could  be  reached,  were  almost  tlingy 
with  pei.cil-writings.  Looking  over  the  high  garden  wall,  I  no- 
ticed the  side  of  the  house  was  covered  l)y  .i  large  Kentucky 
creeper,  all  bright  in  large  trumpet-shaped  flowers.    This  was  the 


LEON  GAMBETTA. 


SI9 

first  of  this  old  home  ni^Il^   mroK,  •     t- 

years.     It  caused  us  k>  pu  ^  n   T"  {".^"'•"P^-  ^  ^'^'^  ^^^c"  for 

and  was  tlic  o„e   n  wl   c     u  ,    '  '  "'' '""'  ^^''"'^''^■"a's. 

thus  have  been  at  act  tvlMht-  T?'^"^  "'"^  ^^■^'  ^''""''l 
an  intense  interest  ^„dl^^^^t"  ^"'"1"'  f"''- 

bIin.,.so„  a  deserted  house  w'ic  ll  of  fr"  ^"'' '^'^''^•'■'" 
tion  written  bv  the  statesma  "s  adn  i,  .'r  "'  v  r"  "\''  '■'^''"•"- 
pconle's  friend  "  •  "  Ur- ,-  r  •\=>^"""L'r^'-  Vive  damhetta,  tiic 
"r./w.l     r       i\.      1  ^  G.nnbetta,  tlie  countrv's  defender"- 

room  showed  us  h,:  was  alone.    We  went  off  for  a  kueh      e      ed 

nto  i  •  t  -  .  '  fl"  ^''?''  '"  ••"'^"'''^■''''  '•-■as-n  for  us  to  get 
into  It .  ti.e.etoie.  after  ati  hour  or  more  we  returned.  The  inuir 
d.an  was  still  absent.  We  determined  to  scale  the  -^r  len  w  ' 
and  m  so  do.nj,  I  strained  my  hip,  and  an>  yet  son^  \^ 
and  unal>Ie  to  do  inueh  walkin,..  and  had  to  keep  mv  n  o,  ?or 
several  days  W  e  succee.led.  however,  in  ^^ettini  into  the  .war- 
den, where  Leon  Gambetta  had  often  walked  ;  "^Mtlier-Hl  some 
horse-chestnuts  from  a  tree  overhan.^ino  his  door."  The  brilliant 
orator  m..y  often  have  sat  beneath  its  shade.  Here,  too,  were  the 
fine  old  trees  under  which  Balzac  may  have  written  or  meditated 
some  of  his  brilliant  romances.  I  was  lame,  but  did  not  re-ret 
It,  for  thou-h  n.^t  in  the  room,  ne  were  at  the  house  and  in  the 
gardens  of  one  of  the  most  biillianl  of  Frenchmen-the  stay  and 
prop  of  Continental  liberty  and  the  friend  of  humanitv  .me  of 
the  most  strik-ini,^  characters  of  this  prolific  century. 

To  write  pn.pirly  ,,f  I'.uis  would  require  more  space  than  is 


now  permitted   me.     I  went  each  moi 


■niut;   to  the  preat  central 


markets.    I  am  ,i  believer  in  the  -rape,  ami  went  for'fresh  chasse- 
as  and   to  enjoy  the  bustle   of  the  earlv  sales  and   the  rood- 
humoretl  -aj-ety  of  the  market-people,     these  market-sheds  are 
great   extent,  all   undermined  with  spacious  vaults,  in  which 


of 

what  fails  to  be  sold  in  the 


next  d; 


Tlu 


morning  may  be  coolly  stored  till  the 


:'arl\'  sales  are 


by  whole- 


tioii.      Lots  of  butter  and  of  cheese,  h 


ale  a 


ml 


made  bv  auc- 


fniit 


s.  carcases  of  meat,  and  masses  of  fish 


impers  of  vegetables  and 


ire  knocked  down 


rapidly  to  the  retailer  and  are  rapidly  carried  off  bv  regular  por 
ters   in   great   broad  hats  to  protect   the  l.^ad   from  LMvase  and 


I      •■—   ---^ ^.....v.and 

drip,  hach  porter  takes  a  tab,  carries  his  lo.id  to  another  part 
of  the  market  where  the  purchaser  pays  and  gets  a  ticket  to 
enable  him  to  pass  the  bounds.     There  arc  regular  auctioneers. 


560 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


and  the  business  is  done  quickly.  The  retail  purchasers  are 
largely  women.  The  wholesaling  is  over  at  nine  o'clock.  Then 
the  retailer  invites  the  passer  with  compliments  to  purchase. 
"  Voila,  monsieur,  a  fish  for  your  charming  wife."  "  Sec  this  bou- 
quet, your  pretty  lady-love  will  dote  on  j'ou  if  you  take  it  to  lu.r." 
"  Here,  monsieur,  is  a  quail  for  your  sick  daughter."  "  Look  at 
this  live  fish  just  the  thing  for  your  guests  this  evening."  "  Huy 
this  beautiful  wreath  of  immortelles,  just  the  thing  for  j'our  hand- 
some family  tomb  at  I'ere  la  Chasso.  '  As  we  walk  among  the 
stalls  of  different  articles,  all  in  their  respective  quarters,  old 
women  ply  the  passer,  and  often  with  compliments  my  modesty 
prevents  my  noting.  One  sees  much  of  I'.uisian  human  nature  in 
these  places.  Large  markets  are  held  in  the  several  cjuarters  of 
the  city  on  fixed  days,  generally  twice  a  week  for  each  locality.  The 
broad  promenade  spaces  of  several  boulevards  have  sockets  in  the 
walks  into  which  posts  are  set,  and  then  rods  run  along  them, 
making  covered  awnings  for  the  stalls.  The  awnings  are  erected 
the  evening  before,  and  after  the  morning  sales  are  over  the  locali- 
ties are  quickly  cleaned,  and  in  an  liour  no  one  would  suspect 
the  pretty  streets  had  been  so  used.  The  market  people  arc 
thus  able  to  reach  different  parts  of  the  city  through  the  week. 
Cabbages  and  other  vegetables  are  brought  into  the  city  pro- 
tected by  their  outer  leaves.  Purchasers  strip  these  off  ami  drop 
them  at  once.  Tons  of  this  refuse  lie  about  the  markets,  but  are, 
immediately  after  the  market  closes,  carted  off  by  public  teams. 
But  I  must  forbear  further  writing  upon  this  great  city.  1  could 
write  on  and  fill  half  a  volume  and  write  only  of  what  has  come 
to  my  individual  notice. 

We  left  Paris  the  15th,  via  Dieppe  for  London.  Caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  old  cathedral  at  Rouen,  but  diil  not  halt,  ran 
through  some  beautiful  scenery  in  Normandy,  with  sweetly 
sequestered  homes  and  quaint  oM  mills;  had  .1  smooth  sail  to 
New  Haven,  and  at  ten  o'clock  at  night  I  felt  that  strange 
oppression  I  always  suffer  from  when  entering  huge  London. 


CHAI'TRR   1,11. 


«t.KKLLLV  CASIl.K. 
When  I  nrrK„.,I   ,  ^-^W*;//,  A>Yw/w  2,  1888. 


1 


fi 


^i^^n:^:T-.s::!.:;^^^^  so 

did  not  know  in      h  t  .  '  h,    ">  "-r''  "  ^^"'^'^■"  '^■'"'^''     I 

house,  but  I  l,..ul  lat  U-  J„  -  i?vr  tf.''  ^''•'  ""•■  ^^-''^'^  ^•^••t  "f 
memorable  excursion  of  tin  L  V  ^^"■'•'iV'^"^  '-'^'^"""t  of  the 
and  his  friends,  an  ec  ied  ft  '"'".^V'  ^^^.""^'^■'  ^''^'^^^'^''^ 
tavern  '•  the  club  •'  1  u  st  r  <  1  ^'^  """''>'"  ^''''t  -t  was  from  this 
and  have  since   "nJr    time     v.  1    -"'"V''^"  ^^'''  '^''^'^orUMc 

one  can  mount  a  "  I;  is  "  for  mv  .n,!   ...  ^ '       ,  ?^  '^^  '''^"'' 


town. 

the  re'ulel^Vmhui'^"  'T'  ''"^''"^'T  "'  ^'""''"'^  ^"  '"-^  it  to 

be^^ed  a^p  ^luln- t-; 'Sll-S;:^ 

Here  are   all   thui'^s  and  all   m  innn-  ,\(     11   /,  ."'^^'-"I'tHiot   it. 

anSi;n^''tLr'r?r'''>'-^''"- 

?:;t;a.."  tS::  ■  TL:':^ob^;:;  rris'r;;;:nd:';t:^;;£::';^  ^- 

cred  w.th  earth  and  w.tter  :  the  sun  li-^lus  it  b.  day    n  1    1,;  ",[,', 
shmc  upon  .t  by  ni^ht.     This  would  i;:.  .,s  properly  a     uk    ^^  'o 
the  globes  characteristic,  as  any  thin,^   1  on,  d  sav  of  t  liV     ,s 
auddrono    humanity  in  a  simple  letter  would  be  a'desc,       o    o 
t.         m.^ht  say  ,t  has  four  millions  of  pcopIe,-thc  m  nd  can 
hardly  -jrasp  the  fact.     Better  probably  would  it  be  to  s  t  S 

the  ten  hirge.st  c.t.es  of  America  imited  into  one  would  not  sum 

561 


S6^ 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUX. 


V 


up  its  complement.  Gather  all  the  people  of  the  preat  State 
of  New  York  and  pour  them  into  London  emptied,  and  there 
would  be  vacant  places  left  and  room  for  those  of  a  few  of  our 
nine  by  ten  commonwealths.  But  what  is  more,  the  great  Empire 
State  even  with  its  huge  city  could  not  furnish  the  ingredients  to 
make  up  the  medley  of  human  nature  here  to  be  found.  Here 
man  soars  aloft  and  looks  with  unilazzled  eye  into  the  brightness 
of  the  stars,  and  here  sinks  into  the  lowest  vortex  of  depravity  ; 
here  he  vies  with  the  gods  in  sublimit)',  and  here  revels  in  the 
companionship  of  the  most  loathsome  reptile.  He  touches  a 
chord  that  sings  in  ethereal  cadences  throughout  the  spheres,  and 
yet  commits  crimes  so  hideous  that  a  convict  escaped  from  Hades 
would  hardly  pleail  guilty  to  their  doing.  Here  is  the  centre  of 
the  world  of  wealth — the  very  heart  whose  pulsations  vibrate  to 
the  farthest  corner  of  the  world,  and  here  sipialid  hunger  is 
gaunt  from  very  starvation.  Tiied  up  on  a  few  acr"sare  tiie  shin- 
ing coins  of  the  wIkjIc  world,  or  the  debentures  which  could  bring 
in  all,  and  then  would  bankrupt  the  ver)'  mines  in  the  rock  ;  and 
yet  within  a  few  minutes'  walk  there  is  the  home  of  starving  want 
and  racking  miserj-.  Here  countless  millions  c<nil<l  l)e  raised 
in  a  da)'  to  carry  light  into  the  heart  of  the  dark  continent,  or  to 
equip  armies  and  squadrons  to  destroy  human  slavery  and  its 
trade  ;  and  \et  close  by  girls  are  being  dail)*  sold  to  vice,  .uid  in- 
fantine innocence  is  taught  to  steal  and  to  coniniit  crime  as  a 
science.  Here  thousands  of  pure,  good  ami  able  men  and  women 
are  dail\'  bainled  together  to  lighten  the  lo.ul  down-weighting  poor 
humanity  and  to  bring  it  into  comnuinion  with  its  (lod.  To  reach 
their  i)Iace  of  meeting  those  same  men  and  women  pass  b\'  cpiar- 
ters  into  which  they  woukl  not  dare  to  go  without  the  eye  of 
a  policeman  constantly  upon  them,  and  where  murders  are 
now  being  committeil  in  manner  so  hellish  and  for  reasons  so 
utterly  unaccountable,  that  the  wcnld  staiuls  aghast  with  horror. 
Nothing  is  so  good,  no  idea  so  sublime,  that  the  performers  of  the 
one,  antl  tlu'  votaries  of  the  otiur  are  not  here  to  be  fouml  in  vast 
aiul  earnest  numbers  ;  nothing  so  \icious  or  so  hideous,  no  thmight 
or  passion  so  bestial  and  dcgr.uling.  that  thous.uuls  caimot  here  be 
found  to  delight  in  performing  the  one.  or  to  reek  and  wall<)W  in 
the  other.  Paris  is  the  e|)itonie  of  certain  tr.iits  of  human  n.iture 
—  London  is  the  epitome  of  the  worlil  and  of  all  tr.iits  of  human 
nature. 

Nature  seems  herself  every  now  and  then  to  grow  shocked 
at  the  possibility  of  its  ilei)r.ivity  and  tries  to  cover  it  over  w  ith 
an  impenetrable  gloom.  .\  London  fog  is  the  one  thing  t\-pical 
of  this  place,  a/ul  of  it  alone.  It  is  not  fog  as  understood  else- 
where, but  a  mist  grountl  up  with  soot — a  mist  coated  with  ilirt 
and  rime  ;  a  pall  settled  down  to  shut  out  the  heavens  and 
to  hide  the  city  from  the  sjiirits  of  the  air  and  the  stars  in 
the  sky.     Coming  from  the  "  Lodge  of  Israel  "  at  Cannon  .Street 


TORT  WORTH  COURT. 


563 


,'IT  w  ith 
tNpical 
loci  clsc- 
lith  iHrt 
Ins  and 
Uars  in 
|i  Street 


Hotel  at  midnight,  I   found  the  city  was  shrouded   in   fog-  I 
mounted  the  dccl<  of  an  omnibus  to  have  the  full  benefit  of  the 
thmg.     Coming  out  of  Ludgate  Hill  the  driver  got  so  bewild  red 
that  he  lost  his  way  in  the  little  open  space  not  200  feet  across 
and  instead  of  going  straight  into  Fleet  Street  turned  at  right 
angles,  and  did  not  discover  his  mistake  until  he  was  about  to 
enter  Hlackfriars  Bridge,  where  there  was  a  little  opening  in  the 
fog,  and  yet  he  had  been  on  this  line  for  10  or   15  years.     We 
frequently  could  not  see  the  lights  on  vehicles  meeting  us  until 
they  were  bumped  into  us.     The  fog  is  often  in  patches  where  all 
is  nearly  impenetrable  and  the  lamps  are  hardly  visible  across 
a  narrow  street,  and  yet  100  or  200  yards  off  one  can  see  with  tol- 
erable distinctness.     I  was  reading  in  my  room  (it  has  three  good 
windows  on  the  street)  at  1 1  o'clock,  suddenly  the  sun  went  out, 
and  I  could  not  distinguish  the  skyline  of  the  l)iiilding  across  the 
way  not  60  feet  off.     1  groped  my  way  down  stairs  before  the  gas 
was  lighted  ;  drivers  on  c.djs  and  'buses  were  calling  out  tu  each 
otlier  so  as  to  learn  their  respective  positions,  and  men  and  boys 
were  offering  their  services  to  convey  pedestrians  to  their  destina- 
tions.    People  often  accept  such  services  even  when  within  a  few 
hundred  yards  ot   iheir  homes.     The  city  seems  to  be  trying  to 
hide  itself  in  sheer  disgust  for  its  own  misdeeds. 

When  I  was  a  young  man  I  was  a  breeder  in  Kentucky  of  short- 
horns, and  going  abroad  visited  the  famous  herd-;  of   luii^land.     I 
went  to  Tortworth  Court,  the  seat  of  the  Earl  of  iJucie  in  Glouces- 
tershire, to  see  his  celebrated  "  Dutchess"  cattle,  and  was  intro- 
duced to  his  torilship  by  the  bull,  "  I'"ouith  Duke  of  York."    I  was 
treated  with  great  kimlness  by  the  family  and  afterward.-,  spent 
some  weeks  at  Hrahan  Castle,  north  of  Inverness,  in  Scotland,  which 
Lord  Ducie  h.ul  taken  for  the  season,    llis  son.  Lord  Moretoninow 
Lord  Ducie),  of  my  own  age,  was  a  fisherman  and  supplied  the  table 
with  salmon;  I   furnishetl  it  with  venison  from  tlie  great  forest, 
well  stocked  with   fallow-deer  and  roebuck,  and  played  billiards 
with  the  kind  earl,  somewhat  an  invalid.     He  died  a  few  months 
afterwards,  anil  the   present  earl,  has  always  been  off  yachting 
when  1  have  since  been  in  England.     We  have  kept  up  an  occa- 
sional correspondence.     Learning  we  were  here  now,  he  wrote  for 
us  to  come  to  Tortworth  for  a  visit.     .\  charming  run  on  the 
Great    Western    Road  through   sweet   home  scenery  along   the 
Thames — ;it  times  rush.ing  with  a  sjieed  of  70  miles  an  hour,  — 
through  picturesque  Bathi  brought  us  to  Bristol,  thence  an  hour 
northward  carried  us  to  Charfield,  the  Tortworth  station.     I  wish 
I  could  write  of  the  splendid  hospitality  found  In  the  interior  of  a 
great  English  country-seat;  but  will  content  myself  by  saying  the 
guest  is  as  free  as  if  he  were  in  a  fine  hotel.    He  can  walk  or  ride ; 
can  talk  or  write  ;  can  play  tennis  or  take  a  row  in  pretty  lakes ; 
can  stroll  among  herds  of  fine  short-horns  or  watch  gay  phea- 
sants wandering  within  100  yards  of  the  house;  can  look  upon 


I 


u 


««4 


A  RACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


old  family  pictures,  or  study  in  the  library  or  in  the  museum,  in 
which  is  a  fine  collection  of  old  English  and  some  Roman  coins, 
nearly  all  dug  up  on  the  grounds  about  the  park ;  can  take  a  pipe 
or  a  cigar  in  the  smoking-room  ;  can  go  through  the  park,  in  which 
are  specimens  of  the  best  American  trees,  all  labelled.  In  short, 
can  do  as  he  pleases  and  have  a  good  time.  Tortworth  residence 
is  very  large,  containing  50  odd  sleeping-rooms,  and  fine  halls,  all  of 
Bath  stone  and  Elizabethian  in  style.  The  grounds  or  home  place 
contain  4,000  acres  and  are  ver)-  beautiful,  most  admirably  kept  up, 
— in  fact  I  could  sec  nothing  out  of  order. 

The  present  Lord  Moreton  has  inheriteti  his  grandfather's  love 
of  short-horns  and  fine  pigs,  and  is  selling  many  to  go  to  the 
Argentine  Republic.  His  father  I  do  not  think  knows  a  short- 
horn from  a  mountain  tow-head,  but  is  great  on  arboriculture  and 
yachting.  I  had  one  familiar  acquaintance,  an  old  chesnut-tree 
about  18  feet  in  diameter  and  written  of  as  old  several  centuries 
ago.  It  is  not  much  more  than  a  living  shell  or  tall  hollow  stump, 
supported  by  a  huge  ivy  which  keeps  it  staid  and  green  at  winter 
in  its  vast  old  age.  It  is  one  of  the  oldest  British  trees  ;  the  ivy 
and  the  balmy  climate  may  keep  it  alive  for  centuries  yet  to  come. 
The  Gloucestershire  hills  stretch  near  by,  making  a  pretty 
outline.  On  one  of  the  highest  points  stands  a  tall  tower  or 
column,  the  monument  of  Tyndale,  who  first  translated  into 
English  the  New  Testament.     This  was  his  native  home. 

Six  miles  from  Tortworth  is  the  oldest  inhabited  stronghold  in 
England — lierkeley  Castle.  It  is  a  solid  old  keep  with  '.massive 
walls,  deeply  marked  by  crinonballs  thrown  against  t  by 
Cromwell.  I^ord  Fitz  Hardinge,  the  owner,  acted  as  cicerone  for 
us  and  showed  us  its  old  rooms  and  many  relics  of  long  ago. 
There  was  the  room  in  which  Etlward  the  Second  was  murdered, 
meeting  the  most  ignoble  death  ever  inflicted  upon  a  king.  His 
bed  is  kept  as  he  used  it.  There  was  Elizabeth's  room  with  its 
massive  wooden  bolts,  barring  out  intruders  from  the  virgin  queen 
and  the  bed  upon  which  she  slept  when  a  guest  at  the  castle. 
Here  were  her  candlesticks,  her  perfume  bottles,  and  other  pretty 
things,  and  a  beautiful  little  prayer-book,  written  and  illumined  by 
her  own  fair  hands.  If  I  remember  rightly,  they  were  dainty  and 
deserved  the  pride  she  had  in  them.  These  and  other  of  her 
ornaments  were  given  by  her  to  one  of  her  maids-of-honor,  a 
daughter  of  this  old  house. 

We  looked  into  the  kitchen,  in  which  a  meal  was  being  pre- 
pared, with  old  pot-racks  and  other  kitchen  furniture  the  same  as 
used  centuries  ago.  The  great  d(;cr  park  was  formerly  about  the 
castle,  but  the  noble  proprietor  moved  it  some  distance  away, 
because  his  good  dame  found  it  so  easy  to  kill  fat  bucks  to  load  the 
table  when  Queen  Bess  was  her  guest.  The  present  lord  is  the 
master  of  the  Gloucestershire  hounds  and  had  just  returned  from 
a  hunt  when  we  arrived.   He  had  gained  a  good  appetite  from  his 


'I' 

hi 

1 1  ,t  I", 


FAREWELL  TO  ENGLAND. 

hard    riding,  but   left  his   lunch  t^Kl     f.  .  i 

munched  biscuits  v-hile  he  shove  In  '  .-    ^'^■'  "f.  •'>'''^""J.  '"ind 

looked  the  typical  fox-ln  ntin     r  n^,'         "  ''''''  "'^'  '"'"'''■"■''•     "e 

and  as  careless  of  app^ranfes    :^'t? 

sawyer.     Willie  Rot  son      nL;  '  M    '"X '"'^'^P%^<''^"t  -^^  a  wood- 

aboStTortworthLurt     VV    Wttlowlt;'LJl" 

regret,  and  leave  for  Liverpool  l^^X^^^^::^^,::^^ 


»i 


t^ 


b   S 


CHAPTER  LIII. 


OUK    IlOMi;    KIN— MAllAKA— \VK    I.OSK 
WITH     rilK   SUN. 


TIIK    RACE 


!'>«'• 


H 


II 
ill 


Homeward  Hound,  Noj'emder  15,  1888. 

Our  passaj^c  across  tlic  Atlantic  was  unovL-iitful  and  not  un- 
pleasant, althoiigli  it  was  roiigli  ami  storni)-.  Twice  the  wind  rose 
to  the  dignity  of  hard  ^alcs,  and  the  ocean  j^'reyhounil  Alasfca 
rolled  tremeniU)iisly,  provin^f  that  old  do^'s  can  learn  new  tricks. 
The  captain  saitl  when  we  starteil  that  she  did  not  know  how  to 
roll,  anil  I  think  acipiired  a  dislike  for  me  because  I  con^'ratulated 
him  afterwards  on  her  aptness  in  takinfj  lessons.  We  reached 
Sandy  Hook  at  ni<^dit  and  anchored  to  await  the  tide.  I  fear.  I 
am  not  orthodox  in  my  patriotism,  for  I  did  not  work  up  any  in- 
tense sentiment  when  I  went  on  deck  in  the  morning,  and  saw 
America  after  so  many  months  of  absence.  I  did  lift  ni)-  hat, 
however,  and  with  deep  respect  said  "  My  native  land,  ^'ood 
morning."  1  felt  a  sort  of  regret  that  our  journeyings  were 
ended  ;  I  was  anxious  to  reach  home  to  see  loved  ones,  and  once 
more  to  greet  my  friends.  I  looked  back  over  the  sea;  there  was 
a  thread  of  light  marking  tiie  way  we  had  come,  and  be)ond  on 
mountain  and  plain,  on  Jiill  and  valley,  were  many  a  charming 
scene  now  lost  to  me  forever. 

We  halted  in  New  York  two  days,  that  Willie  might  look  at  our 
own  commercial  metropolis  wliile  recollections  of  Olil-World  cities 
were  fresh  in  his  mind. 

I  am  making  notes  of  this  my  last  letter  on  the  M.  C.  railroad  as 
we  i)ass  througli  quiet  Michigan.  A  little  link  of  a  luindretl  miles  is 
yet  to  be  made,  to  close  up  tiie  girdle  we  have  been  making  arounil 
the  world.  It  has  been  a  long  and  somewhat  tortuous  one:  now 
lying  on  theei[uator,  then  looped  u])  over  the  Arctic  Circle;  here  we 
were  running  with  fleet-footed  old  .Sol  ;  there  doubling  upon  our 
tracks  we  made  a  couple  of  thousand  and  more  miles  with  the  early 
dawn  ever  in  our  faces.  The  track  we  have  made  would  measure 
about  45,000  miles.  In  all  of  that  vast  distance  we  have  not  met 
with  a  single  accident.  The  two  boys  have  each  had  a  day  or  two  of 
slight  indisposition.  I  have  not  been  sick  a  single  ilay.  We  h.ivc 
sweltered  in  tropical  heats,  and  the  sun  has  shot  down  upon  our 
heads  burning  arrows  ;  we  have  eaten  all  kinds  of  food  and  par- 
taken wantonly  of  the  fruits  of  every  land,  and  for  several  days  in 

5M> 


f 

■■■|'i 


COLD  BATHS. 


567 


;ul  as 
lies  is 
iniiul 
now 
|C  we 
h  our 
Mfly 
,siirc 
met 
■0  of 
have 
our 
par- 
's in 


Finland  and  Norway  were  wet  from  niorninfj  till  ni^ht.   Wo  took 
with  us  a  well  supjilicd  medicine  chest  ;  with  the  exception  of  a 
few  quinine   pills  taken  out,  we  brin^,'  it  back  as  it  started.     Just 
before  sailing  from  Vancouver  1  read  in  a  newspaper  the  state- 
ment of  an  eminent  French  phjsician,  that  he   had  fur  a  year 
or  more  poured  each  morning  cold  water  over  the  back  of  his  neck 
and  had  escaped  colds,     lie  did  not  say  that  it  was  the  cause  of 
his  exemption,  but  recommended  its  trial.    I  have  not  failed  to  so 
do  a  single  morning  in  fifteen  months,  and  have  not  had  a  single 
cold.      1  coulil  not   persuade  the  bo\'s  to  follow  my  example,  and 
they  have  been   freipicnlly  enrheumed.     It  is  worth  trying.     In 
the   f.ir  Kast  we  adopted  the  Indian  mode  of  bathing,  that  is  by 
pouring  cold  water  over  the  person,  and  at  the  same  time  rubbing 
one's  self.    It  is  the  simplest  of  all  Ij.iths  and  perhaps  the  best,  for 
it   permits  free  exercise  while  bathing,  and   thereby  prevents  the 
chill   so  often   dangerousl)-  accompanying  a  cold   souse   or  the 
steady  shock  of  the  shower,  and  is  greatl}'  more  refreshing  than 
the  sponge  bath.     It  is  economical  and  convenient,  and  one  can 
obtain  all  the  refreshing  benefits  of  a  cold  morning  bath  and  not 
consume  over  a  pailful  of  w.iter,  especially  if  using  a  broad  flat 
tub   to    stand    in.     Where  water  is   in   limited   supply  it  i>  the 
thing,  and   for  persons  of  small  means,  who  can  by  it  have  the 
beneficial   nif.rning   refreshment  without  the  expense  of  a  l\ith- 
room.     A    broad    tin    tub   costs   but    little.     We  oftci;    amused 
ourselves    watching    mothers   in    India   bathe  their  naked    little 
ones    from     uabyhood    up   to    ten    or    more    years    of    age,   at 
street    hydrants   in    cities,  or   near  the   tanks   in   villages.     The 
Euro])ean   bathroom  tl.roughout   the  far  East   is  a  small   room 
with  an  inclined  cementetl  floor  and  cemented  wainscoting.     In 
this  is  a  tub,  small  or  large  according  to  the  .ibility  to  get  water, 
and  a  tin  dipper,  usually  an  old  preserved  meat-cm.  Since  reaching 
Singapore  we  have  rarely  missed  our  morning  pour,  for  nearly 
cvervwhere  we  could  get  a  broail  foot-bath.     To  this  and  to  fruit 
diet  I  ascribe  much  of  our  excellent  health.     In  India  our  guide- 
books c.uitioned  ag.iinst  the  free  u.se  of  fruit.     We  partook  pro- 
fuseK-  of  alt   kinds,  in  all  localities  and  at  all  times.     I'or  nearly 
five  months  we  rarelx-  failed  eating  for  breakfast  a  fill  of  "  pomolos," 
the  shaildock  of   Floriila.     Some  say  it  is  an  antidote  to  malaria. 
Hy  peeling  off  the  inner  .skin  it  is  a  delightful  fruit.     A  little  of 
the  inner  skin  gives  a  taste  of  quinine,  and  is  possibly  possessed 
of  its  virtues. 

A  night  whirl  carried  us  from  New  York  across  the  Empire 
State,  and  the  next  morning  gave  us  a  view  of  the  world's  W(Muler 
and  America's  pride  and  glory-  Niagara.  It  would  furnish  a  fit- 
ting climacteric  for  this,  my  story  of  a  voyage  around  the  world. 
I'or  here  one  looks  upon  the  very  embodiments  of  rel-Mitless  force 
and  indomitable  energ\- -  of  irresistible  and  eternal  motion. 
Here  for  untold  ages  there  has  not  been  one  moment  of  rest— not 


S68 


J  JiACE  WITH  THE  SUN. 


>'< 


lif-'l 


a  flcrtinp  instant  of  silence.  During  countless  centuries  the 
majestic  roar,  deep  and  solemn  .xs  the  stertorous  breathings  of  a 
boundless  universe,  has  not  during  the  flash  of  a  second  been 
once  hushed,  or  has  ever  modulated  its  awful  tone.  Here  is 
grandeur  and  sublimity,  but  yet  more  than  all,  beauty  without 
stint.  A  distinguished  Hritoii  once  wrote  with  supercilious  con- 
tempt of  an  untutored  Yankee,  who,  after  looking  upon  .Niagara, 
exclaimed.  "  How  beautiful  !  "  The  Yankee,  however,  was  not 
devoid  of  ethical  refinement.  America's  mighty  cataract  has 
all  the  elements  of  the  beautiful,  but  not  all  of  the  grand.  It 
does  not  arouse  a  feeling  of  fear  and  dread.  Mountain  billows 
rushing  before  a  howling  storm,  seem  ready  to  engulf  one  wl:o  is 
in  their  patli.  I  luge  snow-clad  peaks  or  towering  rocky  pinnacles 
cutting  .1  t.ir  upper  sk)-,  looking  as  if  theii  distant  heights  wre 
the  props  ot  the  eternal  throne,  seem  ready  to  topple  upon  and 
to  crush  tlu:  beholder.  These  arc  awful — fearful-  grand.  Words 
of  tentlerness  die  upon  the  lo\er's  lips  in  their  presence.  Mut 
Niagara  wins  a  loving  look  and  woos  ,i  cooing  word  :  it  mellows 
the  heart,  anil  (juickens  a  gentle  pulse  :  it  is  the  very  tr\-sting 
place  for  lowers;  its  marvellous  beauties  reach  the  heart,  and  the 
hearts  of  thous;in<ls  furnish  a  better  v.'-iticism  th.ui  the  learned 
a,*sthcticisni  of  rhe  -^cho()led  critics.  It  is  graiul,  and  sublime,  ,ind 
yet  more  glorious!}-  beautiful.  I  never  go  to  or  from  the  Mast, 
without  a  feelini^  that  I  have  lost  something  if  I  have  not  ii.id  one 
iiok  at  it.  Even  the  hurried  view  from  .Suspension  Hridge  and 
the  ien  minutes  from  the  look-out  of  the  M.  C.  railroati  repay  a 
good  part  of  tiae  ticket's  cost. 

We  have  buit  a  luindreil  miles  more  to  make,  and  our  jcnirin  _\ings 
will  be  endeti.  I  look  back  with  regret,  for  the  joys  of  the  past  i  ^\ 
months  can  nvev  again  be  mine.  VV^e  have  seen  many  lands  ,iiul 
many  peoples.  We  have  been  happy,  .ind  I  have  endeavoreil 
through  these  letters  to  make  my  friends  at  home  partakers  of 
our  happiness.  The  ende.ivor  has  been  beneficial  to  myself.  It 
has  forced  me  to  an  intensely  close  observ.ition  of  every  thing, 
and  I  hope  to  somewhat  accurate  conclusions.  I  have  reached 
such  conclusions  honestly,  but  have  made  no  pretensions  to  pro- 
fouiul  researches.  I  have  written  of  things  as  they  .ippearei!  to 
me  and  a.s  they  would  most  probably  hav;  appeared  to  my  reaiiers 
had  they  been  in  my  place.  At  le.ist  I  have  en-leavored  to  let 
them  :.ee  through  my  eyes.  Much  that  I  h.ive  witten  may  seem 
trivial,  but  the  monarch  mountains  of  the  woiKl  are  but  aggrega- 
tions of  tiny  atoms.  A  man's  life  and  a  countrj''s  history  are  only 
colli-eted  masses  of  countless  little  things.  A  fossil  bone  and  a 
carbon  leaf  gave  Agassi/,  food  for  months  of  study,  anil  from 
them  he  fashioned  a  beast  of  monster  dimensions  and  revealed  a 
planet  of  emerald  brightness.  Iron  filings  are  dull  and  lustreless 
dirt,  a  magnet  causes  them  to  assume  forms  of  i)erfect  beauty. 
We  look  tiirough  our  window  upon  the  fog,  it  is  cold   d.uiip,  and 


I  -m 


HOME  AGAIN. 


m 


tllcm  pitasantly  before  you,  tliat  you  nii"ht  5ac  «  hat  I  s  .«•  anil  ,« 

Lt^bce"  Iv    '  "i::^,  *:"  >""  ">■"  r  """»"  ™-Pani" '"'.■. 
n.ivc  Dcen  nar(  ,  m  the  companionsliip.      f  you  h.ivo  .-nicvcd  mv 

all  tiic  uluk'  boon  mantled  in  srcen.     I  look  out  of  the  car  win 
tC^    ol^e'T  ;  r"  ""^  "^''  ^^•"^•'^  ^'"l'^^=  =^"  '^  ^^^^^ 

^rce    •  /        sleek    for  ti>ey  have  revelled    in   thr  summer's 

green  ,  they  can  bear  the  wintry  blast  and  look  foruard  to  the 
comms  spr.n^^  \\  .,  too.  have  had  many  lon^^  months  of  ^dorious 
summer.  In  our  memories  are  ^^unered  what  we  have  t,rathered. 
..  be  food  for  thouoht  „,  the  winter  of  declinin^^  years.  Will 
that  winter  be  followed  by  an  emerald  spring?  We  will  hope  and 
live,  and  will  l.ve  in  hope.  i         " 

Again  I  l..ok  out  of  our  window.  Clouds  are  gathering  over 
tlie  sky;  the  curiam  of  the  far  west  is  dyed  in  purple  aii.l  salm-.n. 
Through  a  cloud  rift  the  rounded  low-down  sun  is  bloody  r.d. 
Nearly  500  times  has  he  run  his  course  since  we  started  in  f,nx 
race  with  him  an,und  the  world.  He  lia.s  reached  our  home  an(J 
passed  It  and  we  arc  not  yet  ([uite  there.  \\c  dijis  his  rim  and  is 
gone.     He  has  won  the  race.     To  him  and  to  you  -jood-bye. 


Tin:  END. 


